It Takes An Ocean
by SinfulPerfection
Summary: Santana is the captain of a pirate ship called the McKinley. They do well as long as they have enough supplies and are careful to avoid the HMS Dalton. But when Santana rescues a girl named Brittany from a slave ship, her world is turned upside down.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This story comes from an AMAZING prompt by from RosexShaffer on the Glee AU meme. It's mainly Brittana, but all the characters will be in here, so there will be some side Klaine, Tike, Samcedes, and Finchel/Faberry. Quick disclaimer: this takes place in the 1700s, but most of my information about the time period comes from Pirates of the Caribbean. Some of the things the characters say or do may not be true to the time period. I've done my best to keep it accurate while still making it enjoyable to read and trying to stay true to the characters' voices (this will be especially true in their language! I am certain that pirates didn't talk this way, but the Glee kids do, so I want them to be in character, know what I mean?) Anyway, I just had to get that out of the way-thanks for reading!**

**This story is rated T (for now) but there could be some potentially triggering material since abuse is a major theme (for the most part, it won't actually be happening, but it will be talked about and the aftermath will be described). But I promise, this will NOT be all darkness and angst. It's mostly romance/humor/adventure so enjoy.**

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**Chapter 1: A New Purchase**

"Ship on the horizon!"

Santana jolted at the sound of Tina's voice, waking up from her light nap. For a second, she looked around the room trying to figure out where she was. The captain's cabin. Right. Which meant that she was the captain. Which meant that Tina's call was meant for her. Shit. Santana swung her legs over the edge of her bed and stuffed her feet into her boots just as her door flew open.

"Did you hear?" Blaine asked breathlessly, poking his head through the door.

"Of course I heard," Santana said, lacing her boots and reaching for her spyglass.

"Oh," Blaine said apologetically. "Sorry. This first mate thing is kinda new, I'm not sure how much I should actually be doing."

"Just...tell me things I don't already know," Santana replied, flattening her messy hair with her fingers. Blaine watched her curiously.

"Were you sleeping?" he accused.

"No," Santana replied hastily. "I was working."

"On what?"

"Stuff," Santana said shortly. "Schuester left a great big mess, you know that? That man had no plans."

Blaine nodded. It was true—and part of why they had mutinied him in the first place, less than three days ago. Santana and Blaine had been his first and second mates, respectively, and they had since moved up in the ranks. As the new captain of the _McKinley_, Santana was determined to triple their income and increase their luxury expenditures. Pirates had a reputation for being lazy and unorganized, but Santana and the rest of her crew were actually putting in a lot of work.

"The ship is about an hour away," Blaine told Santana as they left her cabin and walked across the deck. "That gives us enough time to get away, don't you think?"

"Of course," Santana replied. The _McKinley _was the fastest ship in the Caribbean, everyone knew that. Navy ships and other pirates were never too much of a threat as long as they didn't let their guard down. In all the two years that Santana had been aboard the ship, they'd run into trouble only once. Which, to Schuester's credit, was a pretty damn good record.

They reached the bow and Santana pulled out her spyglass. She located the ship that Tina had spotted, drifting on the horizon with its bow pointed straight towards her. The sails were gray and the wood looked battered and old. This was definitely not the Royal Navy.

"What is it?" Blaine asked finally. "I can't see, the sun's too bright."

"Unmarked sails," Santana replied, folding the spyglass and slipping it back into her pocket. "It's right on our path and it looks like we're on theirs." She looked at Blaine stonily, trying to mask her apprehension. This was her first major decision as captain. Her first big test. "Should we divert?" she asked, trying to sound as collected as possible.

"I don't know," Blaine said. "We're low on supplies, particularly food. We might want to chance a trade."

"They could be pirates, too," Santana pointed out.

"All the better," Blaine said. "We've got the gold. Why risk going to port? Besides, it could be days before we get there."

"Maybe..." Santana said. She didn't want to admit to Blaine that she was scared. What would everyone say if they knew? Santana was well respected on the _McKinley—_she was good at looting and fighting, and she was never afraid to put people in their place. But when it came to matters of diplomacy, her courage often failed her. It was hard to out-negotiate ruthless captains, especially when so many of them were men twice her size.

"We're low on rum," Blaine said, interrupting her. "I think we'll be out in a day or two."

Santana grimaced. If there was one thing she and her crew couldn't do without, it was rum. "We'll sail towards them and signal to trade," she said. "But tell the crew to keep an eye out. I don't want any of those unknowns coming on our deck."

"Sure thing," Blaine said. He left, and Santana watched him go, feeling nervous. She hurried to the other side of the deck and went up the stairs to the quarter deck, where Artie was standing at the helm. He gripped the spokes of the wheel tightly as he balanced expertly on his peg legs. How he managed to walk around with two wooden legs, Santana would never know. All she knew was that he'd lost them both in a shark attack when he was just a boy. _That must have been some shark_, she thought.

"Peg Legs," she said. "I want you to steer us straight for that ship over there. I'm going to signal a trade."

"You got it," Artie replied.

"But...be on guard. Just in case I change my mind."

Artie nodded. "Yes Captain."

"Captain, huh? That's new."

Santana turned to see Quinn walking across the deck, a satisfied smile on her face. Quinn had been the most passionate supporter of Schuester's mutiny, and every time she saw Santana, she seemed to be reminded of their success. "I still haven't quite gotten used to it," Santana admitted.

"Captain Santana Lopez," Quinn said thoughtfully. "It _does _have a nice ring to it."

"Better than Second Mate Quinn Fabray?"

Quinn grinned. "You serious?"

"Completely serious," Santana confirmed. In general, the _McKinley _wasn't big on hierarchy and everyone shared most of the work. But she'd known in the back of her mind that it would be her job to replace Blaine once he became first mate, and she'd been thinking long and hard about it. Quinn was Santana's oldest and closest friend, and she was smart. "Besides me and Blaine, you've been here the longest," Santana said. "I know I can trust you."

"Sweet," Quinn said, looking as though she wanted to hug Santana. To Santana's relief, though, she restrained herself. Public displays of affection weren't really their thing. "Thank you so much," Quinn said instead.

"Don't thank me yet," Santana said. "You've got a job right away. We're going to trade with this ship."

Quinn looked out on the horizon at the strange ship, which had moved closer since Santana had last looked. She nodded. "Let's do it," she said.

For the better part of the next hour, Santana paced back and forth across the deck, waiting as the two ships drew closer and closer together. She looked at its ominous tattered sails and scanned the side of the ship for a name. Unable to find one, she turned to Blaine and gave him additional orders. "Get the entire crew on the deck," she said, hoping to alleviate some of her unease. "They can do work or talk amongst themselves or whatever, but I want them to be watching for anything suspicious. Only you, me, and Quinn will go aboard."

"Got it," Blaine said, turning to the rest of the crew to pass on the orders. Santana walked towards the rigging to where Puck was standing.

"I'm putting you in charge while the three of us go over there," Santana said. "If they're aggressive, don't hesitate to open fire."

"So it's official, then?" Puck asked. "Quinn's the second mate?"

"I'm sorry," Santana said sincerely. She knew that, at least among the boys, Puck was the obvious choice. He had been responsible for more than half their loot under Schuester. "I've known Quinn a long time. It seemed right."

Puck shrugged. "It's okay," he said. "I trust your decisions. It's just that, some of the others might not."

"What are you talking about?" Santana asked.

"Nothing really," Puck said. "Just talk around the bunks. It's not important."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "Puck..." she began. If people were already questioning her judgment, she wanted to know right away. Mostly so she could decide whether to change her behavior or tell them to shut the fuck up.

"Don't worry, I'll let you know if there's a big problem," Puck said. "Just...don't do anything too extreme. Remember, you're still new." He punched her playfully on the arm. "You ready for this trade, sis?"

Santana laughed. "I sure am, bro," she replied, feeling comforted at the reference to their old inside joke. When Puck had first tried to join the crew of the _McKinely_, Schuester had thought Puck seemed untrustworthy. But Santana had felt that a strong, badass guy was exactly what they needed, so she told Schue that Puck was her long lost brother. It had been a huge risk, since the two had never met before, but Puck had turned out to be a great asset. And he and Santana had become fast friends.

Santana left Puck and headed towards the bow so that she could signal their friendly intentions. As the other ship got closer, she watched the crewmen assemble on their deck. They were all male, large, and oafish, and Santana knew that the price of a bad trade could be their lives. Figures, she thought, that they would encounter some scary weirdos right after she became captain. She stood firmly as Artie spun the wheel so that the ships were positioned side by side. "Anchor!" Santana called out. Mercedes and Quinn picked up the anchor and dropped it into the water. Santana looked up to confirm that Tina was still in the crow's nest, keeping an eye on things. She pretty much always was, so Santana was not surprised to see her now, crouched down so that she was mostly hidden from the other crew. When Santana caught her eye, Tina gave her a thumbs up. So far, so good.

The ship lowered their plank and Mike and Sam caught it, resting it on the side of the _McKinley_ and securing it with ropes. Santana once again scanned the side of the vessel for a name. Finally she saw it, in faded letters. The _Titan_. "Good evening," one of the men on the other side called out. "Feel free to come aboard our ship."

Santana looked over at Blaine, who nodded, and walked nervously towards the plank. Mike and Sam helped her up, and Blaine and Quinn followed closely behind her. When she got to the other side, she chanced a glance behind her and was pleased to see that her crew was following her orders. They were all on deck, cleaning and making repairs, but Santana knew that they were watching out of the corners of their eyes to make sure everything was going according to plan. Once Blaine and Quinn had arrived on the deck as well, the man who had first spoken asked, "Which one of you is the captain?"

"I am," Santana said, stepping forward. She noticed the man's eyes widen slightly in surprise, and the corners of his mouth twitched. Santana had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Why was it such a big surprise whenever a captain turned out to be a girl? With a steely expression, she held out a hand. "I'm Santana Lopez, captain of the _McKinley_."

"And I'm Captain Dave Karofsky," the man replied, reaching forward to shake her hand, though the amused look never left his face. "Captain of the _Titan_."

"Are you pirate?" Blaine asked. Santana turned around and glared at him, angry that he was speaking when she was supposed to be the one in charge. Didn't he know that made her look weak? Karofsky laughed, and his men began to chuckle along with him.

"We prefer the term 'Gentlemen of Fortune'," he said. "And what's it to you? I don't see any white sails on _your _ship." He squinted towards their ship, and Santana followed his gaze, glad that one of her more forward-thinking crewmates had thought to take down their Jolly Roger. If the _Titan _wouldn't admit to piracy, neither would they.

"Look, we'll mind our own business if you mind yours," Santana said. "This is a trade. We're not doing anything political."

"Agreed," he said. "Now what are you looking for?"

"Food," Santana said. "We need meat and rum. And bread, if you have any."

"Oh, yeah, we've got tons of that," Karofsky said. "We got fresh meat from port a few days ago, and we have a lot of salted meat as well."

Santana's mouth began to water at the thought of having fresh food. "Do you have any fruit?"

"Sure, tons of it." He smirked at the longing expression on her face. "Why don't you come below deck and take a look at what we have?"

He turned around and Santana, Blaine, and Quinn followed him. "Aw yeah, fresh meat," Quinn sang quietly. "I'm so excited..."

"Quinn, don't embarrass yourself," Santana said, though she felt excited as well. But that didn't mean she had to behave like a child. "We don't want them to think we're amateurs."

"If we look too eager, they'll rack up the price," Blaine added. "It's basic negotiation training."

"Well, thank you very much, Mr. Basic Negotiator," Santana said. "Your advice was both necessary and solicited."

Blaine rolled his eyes and they turned to descend the ladder into the hull. Santana was surprised to see that there were even more people below deck. They were mopping and dusting just like her own crew members were doing at that very moment, but there was something a little off-putting about them. They looked nothing like the crew of the _Titan _that had greeted them on the deck. Their arms and legs were thin and skeletal, and their hair was matted and dirty. One of them made eye contact with Santana as she passed, and she shuddered at the scared look in his shrunken eyes.

Quinn came up right behind her. "Santana," she said quietly into Santana's ear. "I think this is a slaver."

Santana turned to Quinn with wide eyes. A slaver? They had never been in contact with a ship like that before. Everyone on the _McKinley _had pretty much agreed that there was something abhorrent about selling humans like they were goods. But a trade was a trade, and Santana was in no place to be picky. "What are we gonna do about it?"

"I don't know. Nothing I guess," Quinn whispered as Karofsky led them to yet another ladder. They descended to the next level and found themselves in a huge room with barrels and boxes stacked to the ceiling.

"Here's our magnificent cargo hold," Karofsky announced. "Take a look around, find what you like."

Santana forgot all about the slaves as she looked around the hold at the boxes of food and goods. She had never seen such an accumulation on one ship before. These guys were really cleaning up. Beside her, Blaine and Quinn were similarly dumbstruck. "What should we take?" Quinn whispered. "There's just so much of it."

"Everything we can carry," Blaine said, and Santana had to agree. They needed rum and meat, obviously, but the thought of getting some fruit and vegetables was so tempting.

"Fresh meat for one night," Santana decided. "And some fruit and vegetables for tomorrow. Then everything else has to be in preserves."

"How about fresh meat for _two _nights?" Quinn asked. But Blaine shook his head.

"They've already had it for a while. We don't want to poison ourselves. It's summer, anyway, it won't keep very long."

"Fine," Quinn said with a sigh.

Santana turned to Karofsky, feeling happier and more confident than before. "Let's talk prices," she said.

Fifteen minutes later, the four of them had formed an assembly line to lift their purchases out of the hold. Santana took the boxes from Quinn and handed them up to Blaine, who was standing in the middle of the ladder with his leg wrapped around the wood to brace himself. He lifted the boxes to Karofsky, who pulled them up from the top with inhuman strength. When all the goods had been assembled on the second level, Santana and Quinn climbed up. "Alright," Karofsky said. "Let's take these to the next ladder."

He grabbed the largest barrel and Blaine, clearly wanting to prove his strength as well, picked up two of the remaining boxes. Santana rolled her eyes and grabbed a crate of apples—no need to overextend herself. They walked through the corridor, once again passing by several skeletal slave-workers. Santana averted her eyes as she walked, even though she felt guilty. Wasn't giving the _Titan _their money only encouraging them to buy more slaves? She decided not to think about it. They needed food, this was a matter of life and death, really.

As she neared the ladder, the door to one of the heads opened suddenly, and someone collided hard with Santana. "Shit!" Santana exclaimed as the crate fell from her hands and several apples cascaded to the floor. She immediately dropped to her knees to rescue her purchases. There was no way she was giving up fresh apples, they were her favorite fruit. The clumsy intruder bent down to help, and as they reached for the same apple, Santana's fingers brushed against a soft hand. She looked up and found herself staring into a girl's deep blue eyes.

"Sorry," the girl whispered, looking terrified. Santana wanted to reassure her that it was okay, but the girl's appearance shocked her so much that she could not find the words.

"Brittany!" Karofsky roared. He reached down and seized a handful of her long blonde hair, pulling her roughly to her feet. Brittany's eyes screwed up in pain but she didn't make a sound. "You idiot! Don't you ever watch where you're going?" He looked down at Santana. "Get up, she'll clean this for you."

Santana looked up at Quinn and Blaine. Both of them were staring back at her with wide eyes. "It's no trouble," Santana said to Karofsky. "I'll do it myself." Blaine shook his head vigorously at her, but she ignored him and began to put the fallen apples back in the crate.

"No, really, don't," Karofsky said. "She needs to learn to pay attention, she's always doing stuff like this." Santana looked up at the girl called Brittany and saw that her eyes had filled with tears. Karofsky looked at her, too. "Well?" he demanded. "Are you going to pick up those apples or just stand there?"

"There's no need," Santana said coldly. She may not have raised an objection to the rest of the slaves, but hell if she was going to let this poor girl be abused right in front of her eyes. She picked up the last apples and got to her feet. "Shall we continue?"

Karofsky looked at Santana angrily, and for a moment, she feared that she had gone too far. Beside her, Quinn gulped. Then Karofsky turned unexpectedly to Brittany and slapped her hard across the face. Brittany stumbled back, covering herself with both hands. Santana could see that she was biting her lip to keep from crying out. "Alright," Karofsky said, sounding slightly out of breath. "Let's get this stuff on deck."

Blaine and Quinn were dead silent as they turned back to their goods. Santana's heart was racing. What was going on? She couldn't help but stare at Brittany as she handed the boxes up to Blaine, her heart aching as she saw that the girl's shoulders had started to shake. She was probably crying, but her eyes were still hidden behind her hands. "Azimio!" Karofsky called out from above them. "Get the guys to take these boxes across to the _McKinley_!" They finished passing everything up, and Karofsky stuck his head down into the hull. "You get up here too, Brittany, you might as well make yourself useful."

Santana watched as Brittany removed her hands from her face, revealing her red eyes and an ugly welt forming on her cheek. She pushed past Quinn and Santana and began to ascend the ladder. Santana noticed for the first time that she was wearing a dress, which was torn in many places and caked with dirt. It looked as though she had worn nothing else for a very, very long time. Once she had reached the top, Santana and Quinn began to climb up after her. "We need to get the fuck out of here," Quinn muttered. Santana nodded in agreement.

When they got to the deck, Santana was pleased to see that the rest of her crew had already taken most of the boxes across and were now sorting them for storage. Blaine was waiting for them by the plank. Santana automatically sought Brittany out and was surprised to see that Brittany was staring back at her. Her eyes were wet and pleading, and before Santana knew what she was doing, she was walking determinedly towards Karofsky. "How much?" she demanded, cocking her head towards Brittany.

Karofsky looked at her in surprise. "I didn't think you were interested in goods of this nature," he said. "Otherwise I would have brought out a finer selection." He smirked and Santana forced herself not to grimace.

"How much?" she repeated.

"She's not for sale," Karofsky said. "And besides, you don't want her. She's useless." He shoved Brittany's shoulder as he spoke, causing her to stumble. The members of Karofsky's crew who were watching snorted in amusement, and Brittany looked down at her feet.

"I do want her," Santana said. "And if she really is useless, you can give her to me cheap, right?"

"Not so fast," Karofsky grumbled. "She does have her uses. Why don't you let me bring out all of our products and you can take a look?"

Quinn and Blaine had joined them now, looking at Santana curiously. "What are you doing?" Blaine asked quietly. Santana ignored him.

"I want her," Santana demanded. "Tell me what it's gonna cost."

Karofsky's eyes narrowed in anger. He glanced around at the rest of his crew, who were all watching him. Then he turned back to Santana. "Fine," he spat. "I want double what you're paying for all the goods I just sold you."

"Santana..." Quinn began.

"Done," Santana said.

"What?" Blaine demanded. Santana turned on her heel and glared at him until he stepped back demurely. "I'll get the gold," he muttered, heading for the plank. Santana nodded and turned to Quinn. Quinn just shrugged, and Santana stepped towards her, out of earshot of Karofsky and Brittany.

"I had to do it," she whispered, suddenly feeling insecure about her impulsive decision.

Quinn nodded. "I know."

"She just seems so scared."

"They all do," Quinn pointed out.

"I know, but her more than anything." Santana swallowed hard. "The way he just hit her..."

"I know," Quinn said again. "I know." There were several minutes of silence as they waited for Blaine to come back. The rest of the _Titan_'s crew resumed their duties, but Karofsky remained next to Brittany, still as a statue. Santana watched Brittany carefully, hoping for some eye contact from the girl, some sign of relief or gratitude that showed that Santana had done the right thing. But Brittany kept her eyes fixed on the deck.

It wasn't long before Blaine came back, carrying two burlap sacks in his arms. "Here you are," he said breathlessly. "This is all of it."

Karofsky stepped forward and took the two bags, weighing them in his hands. Then he nodded, satisfied. "Take her," she said, shoving Brittany forward. Brittany stumbled and steadied herself on Blaine's arm.

"Whoa. You alright?" Blaine asked. Brittany just nodded. "Come with me," he said, leading her towards the plank. Quinn followed close behind her and Santana stayed where she was, watching them. Only when Brittany made it all the way across to their own ship did the knot in Santana's stomach loosen slightly. She turned back to Karofsky.

"Thank you for the goods," she said tersely.

"You're welcome," Karofsky replied, swinging the bags of gold smugly. "It was a pleasure doing business with you. Maybe we'll meet again."

"I sure hope not," Santana replied. She turned and headed for the railing, climbing up onto the gangplank. Puck was waiting for her on the other side, and he took her hand to help her climb down.

"Well, that went pretty well for your first negotiation, didn't it?" he said brightly.

"It was fine," Santana replied. She turned around to address her crew. "Make haste!" she called out. "I want as much distance between us and that ship as possible! Let's move."

Puck raised his eyebrows. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"That guy gave me the creeps," Santana admitted. "I didn't like what was going on over there."

"Does this have something to do with that girl Blaine just brought over?" Puck asked. "Mind explaining that move?"

Santana shrugged helplessly. "I just...I don't know. Yet."

"Remember when I told you to not to do anything extreme?" Puck asked. "Well...this could be considered a little extreme."

Santana took a deep breath. "I'll just have to risk it." Puck still looked uncertain. "It's okay," Santana continued. "I'll see what's up with her and then I'll send her on her way. We'll make the money back in our next raid. In a couple of days, it'll be like she was never here."

Puck shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. "For your sake, I hope you're right."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: With the Wind**

"Everything is put away," Blaine informed Santana. "And I've already instructed Finn to cook the meat tonight."

"Excellent," Santana said. She had just finished talking with Puck, and was listening to Blaine as he gave her an update. The _Titan _was still sailing away from them, though not as quickly as Santana would have liked. "Where did you take Brittany?" she asked.

"To your cabin," Blaine said. He looked hesitant. "She seems pretty shaken up. I don't know if she's going to be much use to us."

"She's not for _use_," Santana said, feeling sick at the thought. Did Blaine really think she would buy a slave to keep on their ship? "Why would we even need her?"

"Okay, I was just checking," Blaine said. He narrowed his eyes at Santana. "So this was like...a noble thing?"

"It's really not that hard to imagine that I might do something noble," Santana snapped. "Why don't _you _go be of use?"

"Alright, whatever," Blaine said hastily, hurrying away. Santana went to her cabin. Brittany was sitting on the edge of the bed, tracing the pattern of the blankets nervously. She looked up when Santana entered.

"Hi," Santana said quietly. "Brittany, right?"

Brittany nodded. Santana walked over to her desk chair and pulled it up to the bed so that she could sit facing Brittany. She wasn't quite sure what to say—or, frankly, if Brittany was even capable of speech—so she decided to examine her instead. The spot on her cheek where Karofsky had slapped her was beginning to turn purple, and there were scratches and bruises all up and down her arms. Santana reached forward and placed her fingers on a particularly large scar. Brittany flinched. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

Brittany shook her head. "It's old," she said. Her words were so quiet that they almost got carried away.

"Some of these look new," Santana said, moving her eyes down to Brittany's leg. There was a scratch there that was bleeding slightly, just enough that it had left a few specks of red on the hem of her dress. It looked deep and a little bit swollen. Santana gently pushed the dress aside and felt Brittany's muscles tense beneath her touch. "I'm sorry," Santana said. "Do you not want me to touch you?"

Brittany began to look panicked. "You can touch me, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I'll be good."

Santana furrowed her brow. That was a strange response. "It's alright, I'll stop," she said, continuing to look at the cuts but being careful not to touch them. None looked so deep that they needed stitches, but they definitely had to be washed. Santana wondered if all of them had been inflicted by Karofsky. She shuddered. "I'll get someone to look at these for you," she said. "We'll get you cleaned up."

"Thank you," Brittany said. Then she looked at Santana. "You're the captain, right?"

Santana nodded. "Yeah. I'm Santana."

"Do you need me to...do stuff for you?"

Santana blinked. "What?"

"Captain Karofsky always g-got mad when I...when I wasn't ready for him." Her voice started shaking. "Whenever I was in my cabin, h-he wanted me to..."

Santana's eyes widened. "No," she said quickly. What exactly was it that Karofsky wanted her to do? No, scratch that—she didn't want to know. "Brittany, I didn't buy you for that," she explained. "Brittany, look at me." Brittany brought her frightened eyes up to meet Santana's. "No one here is going to touch you, do you understand?"

Brittany bit her chapped lip and nodded slowly. A tear formed in her eye and began to slide down her cheek.

"I'm going to take care of you," Santana promised. "If there's anything you need, just tell me."

"Thank you," Brittany croaked, rubbing at her eyes and leaving a streak of dirt on her face. Santana stood up from the bed. She had never been good in emotional situations, and this was no exception. It was time to let someone else step in.

"I've got to go out and talk to my crew," she said. "But I'm going to send someone in here to help you, I promise." She hesitated. "And, uh, if there's anything you need, let me know."

Brittany nodded and wrapped her arms across her chest, crying softly. Santana left the cabin and closed the door behind her. Then she walked up to Blaine, who was sitting around one of the barrels with Kurt and Puck, laying out a case of cigars. The boys were eyeing the cigars eagerly.

"Hey, Anderson, Hummel" Santana snapped. "I've got a job for you. Clean up the first mate cabin and change the sheets, we're going to make a room for Brittany."

"Brittany?" Kurt looked at her in confusion. "Who's Brittany?"

"The girl we just rescued from that idiot Karofsky, now hurry up," Santana said impatiently. "She's probably exhausted and I want her to have a place to sleep."

"Hold on," Blaine said. "Why does she have to take my cabin? We have three extra bunks below deck."

"Because she doesn't want to sleep down there with the rest of the foul pirates on this ship," Santana said, rolling her eyes as she thought about the strange disregard for hygiene that most of her crew seemed to possess. "Brittany needs privacy. She's not well."

"That's not my fault," Blaine countered. "Why can't you give her _your _cabin if it's so important?"

"Because, my cabin is practically community space now, ever since Schuester left it," Santana snapped. "She needs to be in the cabin below where it's quiet. And besides, I have all my navigation stuff up here. I need to be able to go in and out."

"You can't just give away Blaine's cabin!" Kurt protested. Santana turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

"What's it to you, Hummel?" she asked.

Kurt's face turned red. "We, uh, play dice in there," he said. Santana scoffed. She had a feeling that Kurt and Blaine had been playing an entirely different kind of game recently. And she knew that Kurt didn't even own any dice.

"You can 'play dice' downstairs," she said. "This isn't really an offer, Blaine, this is an order. It's only for a couple of days."

"Fine," Blaine said, gathering his cigars and shoving them into his pockets. "We'll trade later, guys," he said quietly to Puck and Kurt. Then he stomped off across the deck. Kurt hurriedly followed him.

"Remember, the captain gets to collect a tax on every trade that takes place onboard!" Santana called after him.

"Bite me!" Blaine replied as he disappeared into the hull.

"That idiot," Santana muttered to herself. She looked at Puck. "Where's Quinn? Or Cedes?" She had a feeling that they would be the only two who could possibility treat Brittany with some semblance of civility. Her crew was capable of many things, but manners was not one of them. Still, Santana supposed she shouldn't be throwing any stones. She was the worst of the lot.

"Quinn's on break," Puck said. "Mercedes is steering."

"Take over for her," Santana ordered. "I need her to do something for me." Puck got up and went towards the quarter deck. A moment later, Mercedes came down the stairs.

"Hey Captain," she said. "You needed me?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "There's a girl in my cabin and I need you to get her some water for a bath." Mercedes looked at Santana strangely. "I realize how weird that sounds," she continued. "Just do it, and give her some of my clothes. Whatever you can find, I don't care." She hoped Mercedes wouldn't ask too many questions. Santana still wasn't sure what she was going to do with Brittany and how she was going to explain her lack of a plan to the rest of the crew.

"Alright," Mercedes said, leaving without protest. Santana sighed and went up to the quarter deck. She walked past Puck, who was manning the wheel, and leaned against the railing. The sky was dark now and the first stars were becoming visible. She could smell the fragrance of Finn's cooking coming from the galley and managed a small smile. When Finn had first joined up, she and Schuester had discussed ditching him at the nearest port because of how ineffective he was. But then they discovered that he could cook. It was an unexpected talent, but it had served him well. Often, the thought of his spice cake was the only thing that kept her from making him walk the plank.

Puck was the opposite of Finn, Santana thought as she watched him at the helm. He was clear-headed and born for piracy. His strengths lay more in eating than in cooking, but other than that, he was basically the perfect crew member. And Santana liked him, too. It wasn't hard to pretend that they were brother and sister under Schuester's watchful eye, and their lie probably could have gone a lot farther if they hadn't gotten a little _too _close. Santana smiled at the memory of their fling. It wasn't something that she ever wanted to repeat, but it had been pretty funny when Mercedes walked in on them kissing in the bunks and demanded an explanation. And Santana had thought Tina's yell was loud...

Santana lost herself in thoughts of her crew. There were Blaine and Quinn, the _McKinley_ veterans, who had joined up with her when Schuester first started recruiting at Port Lima. Mike and Tina, the young couple running away from home so that they could be together, who had eagerly accepted passage on the ship in exchange for becoming pirates. Artie, who didn't mind being called Peg Legs because he was more capable than half the crew put together. And Mercedes, who was Santana's eyes and ears below the deck, appearing kind but threatening to beat up anyone who didn't do their share of the work. The person who got a free pass from Mercedes was Sam, their newest crew member, who had been in love with Mercedes since he set foot on their ship. Finally, there was Kurt, the dainty boy from the colonies who had nearly punched Santana in the face when she suggested that he was better suited signing up to be a butler on a Navy ship. He was fiercely opposed to his old lifestyle, and he had turned out to be a surprisingly eager and hardworking pirate. She would like him a lot better, though, if he wasn't constantly sneaking off with Blaine.

Santana really liked them, even though she hated to admit it. She hoped that there was no truth to what Puck had been saying about some people questioning her judgment. Unlike Schuester, she wanted what was best for everyone. And she'd always dreamed of captaining her own pirate ship, ever since she was very young. Underneath her stubbornness, her strict orders, and her constant banter with Blaine, she really just wanted to make her crew happy.

Santana was shaken from her thoughts when she heard footsteps behind her, and a moment later, Blaine was leaning against the railing by her side. "What are you gonna do with Brittany?" he asked. "Did you make a plan yet?"

Santana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Not yet," she admitted.

"An impulsive spender who has no foresight," Blaine said with a nod. "Those are great qualities in a captain."

"Like you would have left her there," Santana snapped.

"I might've." Blaine sighed heavily and looked out over the frothy sea. "No, I wouldn't have. You're right."

"Schuester would've," Santana said.

Blaine nodded. "It's entirely possible. We should ask her where she lives."

"And take her home?" Santana asked. "It could be thousands of miles away, for all we know."

"Well, we might as well ask," Blaine said. "I agree that we did the right thing by taking her, but you gotta admit, we have a bit of a problem on our hands. If her home is too far away, maybe we can take her to port and help her get aboard a merchant ship or something."

Santana nodded. "That seems like a good idea," she said.

Blaine hit her shoulder with his. "Looks like you're lucky to have me."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," she said. "You're probably the laziest member of this crew. Every time I turn around, you're making trades or singing chanties or talking to that weirdo Kurt Hummel."

"Hey," Blaine protested. "I like Kurt."

"I know you do," Santana replied with a smirk.

"Okay, maybe I don't work as hard as the others, but I am the brain power, you gotta admit." He smiled.

"Captain." Mercedes's voice came from the stairs and Santana turned around to see her emerging onto the quarter deck. "I took care of Brittany and she's still in your cabin."

Santana nodded. "Good. Thanks."

Mercedes came closer. "What's wrong with her?" she asked quietly.

Santana immediately became wary. "What do you mean?" She stepped away from Blaine so that she and Mercedes could carry on their conversation in private.

"I mean that she was nervous and wouldn't undress in front of me and...I don't know, she just seemed weird." Mercedes looked troubled. "She's so scratched up."

"Did you clean the cuts?"

"I hope _she_ did. She wouldn't let me touch her." Mercedes shook her head sadly. "Something was going down on that ship she was on, I promise you. I don't know what it was and I don't know if I want to."

Santana chewed on her lip. "I'm going to take her to Blaine's room," she said. "She'll be staying there."

"Alright," Mercedes said. "That sounds good. Just...keep an eye on her."

"I will," Santana promised as Mercedes went back to the wheel. Santana turned to Blaine. "I'm going to see her now," she said. "I'll ask her about taking her home."

Blaine nodded. "Good," he said. "Let me know what she says."

Santana walked into her cabin for the second time that day to find Brittany sitting on her bed. This time, however, Brittany had shed the dirty dress and was wearing a pair of Santana's britches with a button-down shirt. Santana noticed with surprise that the pants were a little short. Brittany was actually taller than Santana had thought, though she seemed so tiny as she sat on the mattress with her knees against her chest. She looked at Santana with the same nervous expression that she'd had on Karofsky's ship. "Was it nice to finally get clean?" Santana asked with the most comforting smile she could muster.

"Yeah," Brittany said.

"You must be tired."

Brittany nodded. "I am."

"Okay." Santana lingered by the door. Then she walked over to the trunk in her cabin and pulled out a thick quilt. "I just bought this last time we stopped, isn't it nice?" She held it up and Brittany examined it expressionlessly. "You can borrow it if you want. It gets a little cold at night."

"Thanks," Brittany whispered.

Santana wished that Brittany would smile or say _something _to reassure Santana that she was doing the right thing. Santana didn't know how to to take care of people. She had never done it before. "Come on, I'll take you to your room," she offered. Brittany slowly uncurled herself and stood up from the bed, her legs shaking slightly.

"So our ship is probably not that different from the one you were on before," Santana said as she led Brittany across the deck They went down into the hold and Santana continued. "It's a little smaller, though. That way's the bunks where most of the crew sleeps...there's the heads..." When Brittany finished climbing down the ladder, Santana led her away from the crew's bunks. They passed another ladder that went down even further. "That leads to the rum cellar and the gun room," she said. She wasn't sure if Brittany was even listening to her, but she wanted to fill the silence. "The cannons are down there. And this," she reached a small door and pulled it open, "is the first mate's cabin, which is where you'll be sleeping." She motioned with her hand and Brittany looked inside at the cramped quarters, with the small bed and chest all shoved inside. "It's not much," Santana said quickly. "But at least you don't have to be in the bunks."

"It's really nice," Brittany said tonelessly. "Thank you."

"No problem." Santana stepped out of the way so that Brittany could go inside. Then she went in after her and placed the quilt down on the bed. "You probably want to rest. Finn is making dinner right now, I'll have someone bring it down to you."

"Okay." Brittany sat down on the bed and ran her fingers across the quilt.

"You know, we can take you home," Santana offered gently. "To wherever you were...before you went on Karofsky's ship."

Brittany was quiet for a long time. "I don't have a home," she said finally. "It's gone."

"Gone?" Santana looked at Brittany. Her lower lip was trembling and she looked like she was about to cry. "It's okay," she said quickly. "We'll figure something out, once you've rested."

"Thank you so much," Brittany said quietly. Her eyes began to water and Santana awkwardly backed out of the cabin.

"It's nothing," she said. "Really, just make yourself comfortable. I'll make sure you have the food as soon as it's done." She left the cabin and closed the door quietly. After hesitating for a moment, she pressed her ear to the door, wondering if she would hear the sound of Brittany sobbing. But there was silence. She pulled away and went back up onto the deck.

Upstairs, everyone was gathered around the galley. Finn had cooked the beef they'd bought from Karofsky and they were all eager for a taste. Santana couldn't blame them, it wasn't often that they got to have meat that hadn't been salted and preserved. She walked over and found the closest crew member. "Sam," she said. "Take a plate down to Brittany. Be sure to give her some bread, too."

Santana got her own food and went to sit down on the deck, and it wasn't long before Blaine joined her. "Good call on trading with that slaver," he said. "Oh wait...I believe I was the one who insisted on doing that."

Santana took a swig of rum. "You did well, Blaine," she said. "Top notch. Real captain material."

"Even though your voice is dripping with sarcasm, I'm going to take that as a compliment," Blaine said. He paused for a moment to take a large bite. When he'd swallowed it, he said, "So where are we off to next? Did you find out where Brittany lives?"

"It's a little complicated," Santana said. Blaine raised his eyebrows. "She doesn't have a home."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Santana sighed. "She's not exactly the easiest to talk to. I can barely get a few words out of her."

"Well then, what are we going to do with her?" Blaine asked. "We can't exactly keep her here forever. A pirate ship is no place for a girl, anyway."

Santana scoffed. "And what am I? A kraken?"

Blaine laughed. "A kraken? Probably. No, but you hardly count as a girl. I mean that in the best possible way."

"I don't know what _way_ you're talking about," Santana said. "And you seem to have failed to notice that there are three other girls—three _women_, actually—crewing this ship and one of them is my second mate and a hell of a lot more capable than you are!"

"Alright, alright," Blaine said. "I'm sorry. Can we get back to the issue at hand? We still have a strange girl on our ship who doesn't talk and doesn't have a home, and we have absolutely no idea what to do with her."

Before Santana could respond, Sam approached her. "Uh Santana—Captain, sorry. I took the food down but she was asleep, so I left it on her trunk. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure, that's fine," Santana said. "That way if she wakes up and she's hungry, it'll be there." Sam nodded in relief and hurried off to eat with his friends.

"You seem to care a lot about her," Blaine said. "_I _never got my food delivered to me."

"That's because you're an incredibly capable human being who was never forced into slavery by an evil Captain Karofsky," Santana said. "But if you'd like special treatment, his ship isn't too far away. I'm sure we can catch up by tomorrow morning."

"Ha ha," Blaine said. "Whatever. You never answered my question about what we're doing with her."

Santana paused. She knew this was her fault, and she had to deal with it—quickly. Puck was right, this was just the kind of thing that could have people questioning whether or not she was suited for captaincy. "Just keep sailing with the wind," she said. "I'll have a plan for a new course by the morning."

"Keep sailing with the wind, that's professional advice," Blaine said. Santana just shrugged.

"At this point, what else are we gonna do?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: A Visit to the Brig**

Santana spent the night tossing and turning, unable to keep the image of Karofsky slapping Brittany from playing over and over in her head. She was haunted by Brittany's scared blue eyes, her flowing blond hair, her barely-there voice and the scars all over her body. Whenever she was able to drift off, she had the same dream. Brittany was running through the grass, looking healthy and happy, beckoning Santana closer. But every time Santana tried to draw near, the scene would turn dark, rain would pour down, and Brittany's eyes would become sunken and gaunt, bruises and blood would cover her face. Santana would try to reach for her and wake in a cold sweat, with half a mind to run downstairs and check that Brittany was okay. But she restrained herself. Brittany barely knew her, and anyway, she probably just wanted to sleep. _She's safe here_, Santana told herself over and over. _There's nothing on this ship that could hurt her_.

When dawn finally came, Santana dragged herself out of bed and got dressed. She stepped outside just as the watch was changing over and the crewmembers that had been up since two a.m. dragged their exhausted bodies back into the hold. As Santana closed the cabin door, Blaine approached her, looking fresh and alert.

"Captain-" he began.

"Port Lima," Santana said. She'd been thinking about it all night—between her nightmares—and the choice was obvious. "It's a respectable place. She can get a job that doesn't involve being a whore."

Blaine frowned. "Are you sure it's a good idea to go there? You remember what happened last time."

"Of course I remember." Santana sighed. This was precisely why she had spent the entire evening debating whether or not to take her crew to the port. But she had made up her mind. "We're going there, Blaine. Tell the crew."

"I'm going to have to object," Blaine said more firmly. "Santana, you're sending us right into a trap-"

"The _Dalton_ doesn't stay in port," Santana interrupted. "It sails around. How do you know we'll even see them there?"

"Because last time we went there, they were waiting for us!" Blaine said. "They know we like it, they're going to be there again."

"I don't want to discuss it any more," Santana said. "We're going, and unless we see them at the dock, we're stopping. And it's not like I'm going in blind. I'm going to the brig right now."

Blaine huffed. "What makes you think Schue will want to talk to you?"

"You do your job, I'll do mine," Santana said with an air of finality. She left Blaine and walked across the desk to the ladder. Then she went below.

As she made her way to the brig, she stopped by the first mate's cabin. The door was slightly open, so Santana peeked inside. Brittany was nowhere to be found, but her untouched bowl of stew was still sitting on the trunk. The bread had a few bite marks in it, so Brittany had definitely found the food they had left for her. But clearly, she hadn't eaten it. Santana shook her head to clear it of her worry. She could concern herself with Brittany later. As she approached the brig, she ran into Artie mopping the floor. "Thanks, Artie, I can take it from here," she said. "I have to have a word with our prisoner."

Artie looked surprised. "Alright," he said, handing her the broom. He heaved himself up the ladder with his arms, and Santana walked over to the row of cells. Most of them had long ago been converted to storage, but there was one that they kept for prisoners, one that was usually empty. Today, however, it was not. Will Schuester was lying on the floor of the cell, with his eyes closed and his arms behind his head. He looked to be sleeping, but when Santana approached, he opened his eyes and smirked at her.

"Good morning _Captain_," he said mockingly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Morning," she said. "I need your advice on something." Schuester pulled himself up into a sitting position and crawled over to the bars. He wrapped his fingers around the metal and looked at her.

"Why should I help you?" he asked.

"Because if we get captured by the Royal Navy, know what they're gonna do to you?" Santana lowered her voice threateningly. "They'll put a noose around your pretty neck."

Schuester's sadistic smile faltered. "You ran into trouble already?" he asked, transforming back into his usual, worried self.

"No," Santana said. "But we might." She backed against the opposite wall and leaned against it. She really wished there was someone else she could go to. But despite his shortcomings, Schue had been captain for a long time. So she sighed. "Tell me what you know about the _H.M.S Dalton_."

Schuester's face immediately became serious. "Don't mess with the _Dalton_," he said warningly. "The Royal Navy ships generally aren't very fast, so I'm pretty sure you can outrun them. But don't get dragged into a fight, or they _will_ win."

Santana looked at him curiously. "What makes them so dangerous?" she asked.

"Because." Schuester narrowed his eyes at her. "Actually, why don't you let me out of this brig, and I'll enlighten you."

"How about I do nothing, and you enlighten me anyway?" Santana replied, her voice raising slightly. "I don't know if you haven't realized this yet, but you're in my brig. I feed you. I make sure your cell gets cleaned. So if you like the way you're living right now, talk to me, because this," she waved her hand around the room, "could be a hell of a lot worse."

Schuester looked at her for a long time, his face twisted in uncharacteristic hatred. "Fine," he said. "The _Dalton_. When we ran into them last time, they were working under a guy named Sebastian Smythe."

"And what's this guy like?" Santana asked. Schuester laughed humorlessly and shook his head.

"Ruthless. Unstoppable. He works tirelessly chasing ships up and down the Caribbean. If you get caught by him, you don't stand a chance. There won't be any mercy. And the thing is," he looked up at Santana with a wild look in his eye, "he's not just looking for pirates to throw in jail. He wants something else."

"What 'something else'?" Santana asked. She realized that she had subconsciously begun to lean forward, burning with curiosity.

"I don't know," Schuester said. He moved away from the bars of his cell and settled back into a comfortable sitting position. "I was lucky enough to get away from him, nevermind getting a chance to find out what he was up to."

"You've gotta give me more than that," Santana said. "You were _captured _by them, for God's sake."

"The only advice I can give you is to stay away from them," Schuester said. "They've started hanging around Port Lima an awful lot. Which is why I was planning to find a new place for us to frequent...right before I was unceremoniously thrown from my position." He looked at Santana bitterly.

"Well, Port Lima is where we're going, so I guess we'll just have to pray for the best," Santana said stubbornly. "Unless you can tell me more, that is."

"I've got nothing," Schuester said maddeningly.

Santana groaned. Then she took a deep breath. "Fine," she said. "I'll make a deal. You tell me everything, and when we get to Port Lima, I'll let you out. You can find a new ship, settle down on the mainland, I don't care. I just never want to see you again. Does that sound good?"

"That sounds excellent," Schuester said, looking smug. "Can I consider that to be your word? You don't want to break the Pirates' Code, after all."

Santana nodded stiffly. "You have my word."

"Good," Schuester said. "Well, I wasn't lying when I said that I didn't get a lot of information. But I do know one more thing," he added as Santana started to open her mouth angrily. "I never told anyone this because I didn't want it to tear the crew apart but...I'm not the only one on this ship who's been aboard the _Dalton_."

Santana's eyes widened. "Who else has?"

Schuester shrugged. "No idea."

"Dammit, Schuester!" Santana said. "Are you kidding me? You won't tell me _who_?"

"I would if I knew!" Schuester replied hotly. "I'm not omnipotent. When they captured me, I heard a few of them talking. They said that they could still get someone else from the _McKinley_, and I remember their exact words: 'We can always get in touch with our old friend.' Then they realized I could hear them, and they left."

"And you never ran an investigation? You never checked to see who their link was?" Santana shook her head in disbelief. "You were a shitty Captain."

"Was I, Santana?" Schuester asked. "Are you any better? Are you going to go open an investigation on your crew right now?"

"I very well might," Santana said, knowing that she wouldn't. She wasn't going to create that kind of atmosphere of mistrust, and anyway, Schue had been captured more than a year ago. There had been people on their ship back then that were gone now, and any one of them could have been on the _Dalton _in the past. "Well it's none of your concern, anyway. I'm leaving now, I have a ship to run."

"Don't forget," Schuester said as Santana began to leave. "We have a deal, you're letting me out."

"I'll gladly honor that deal," Santana replied. "At this point, you're just a waste of food." She stomped over to the ladder and climbed up.

The moment Santana got above deck, she was accosted by Finn, who was jumping up and down and waving his arms about. "Is it true, is it true?" he asked gleefully. "Are we going to Port Lima?"

Santana looked at Finn with her eyebrows raised. "I would say yes, but I'm afraid you'll pee your pants or something."

Finn relaxed his muscles, though it looked like it took great effort. "Thank you so much," he said, his voice still teeming with excitement. "You're the best captain ever."

"Well, I won't argue with that," Santana said, making her way over to the quarter deck. Finn skipped away and hi-fived with Puck on his way back to the galley. "The hell is wrong with that guy?" she muttered to herself.

"He wants to see his girlfriend." Santana whipped her head around to see Quinn leaning against the ship's railing. She wasn't looking at Santana; she was staring out over the sea with a thoughtful expression. "Rachel Berry."

"Oh yeah?" Santana tried to hold back a smirk as she watched Quinn. They had all met Rachel Berry on their last trip to Port Lima—the last time before the _Dalton_ stopped them from returning—when they stayed at an inn called the Golden Oyster. Rachel was a bartender there, and a very pretty one at that, though Santana personally found her constant stream of unnecessarily large words to be quite annoying. But Finn had developed an unhealthy obsession with her, and though Santana knew she would never admit it, Quinn wasn't far behind.

"I don't even think Rachel likes him all that much," Quinn said. "Finn is the only person who says they hooked up. It's hearsay."

"Well, I guess we can find out in a couple of days," Santana pointed out. "Maybe you can sweep her off her feet instead."

Quinn scoffed, though Santana did not miss the momentarily glint of excitement in her eyes. But then it was gone. "Please," she said. "I have work to do. I can't just go around picking up girls that I'm only going to see for one night. It would be unprofessional."

"Whatever you say," Santana said. Then she looked around the deck. "Have you seen Brittany? She wasn't in her cabin this morning."

"Yeah, I have," Quinn said, pointing upwards. "She's been up there since before the sun came up." Santana looked up towards the crow's nest to see Brittany standing in it, next to Tina. As she watched, Tina pulled out her eyeglass and handed it to Brittany. Brittany took it and looked through it for a long time. Santana thought she could see the ghost of a smile on Brittany's lips.

"Know what she's doing?" Santana asked.

Quinn shrugged. "Nope. No clue. She just asked Tina if she could go up with her."

"Hm." Santana watched for a while as Brittany put away the eyeglass and leaned against the edge of the crow's nest, letting the wind blow through her hair. She was not the healthy Brittany from Santana's dreams but she was not the broken, injured version either, and as Santana watched her, she was able to finally shake off the nightmare. She kept her eyes on Brittany until her neck began to hurt from looking up. Then she headed into her cabin to chart a course for Port Lima.

As she unfurled the map on her desk and pulled out her compass and pencil, the door to her cabin opened. Kurt stepped inside and flopped down on her bed. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked.

"Stuff," Santana replied shortly. The lack of privacy in her own cabin didn't bother Santana too much, since she felt weird lording over her fellow crewmembers anyway, but it would have been nice to have a few moments of quiet while she looked at the map.

"What kind of stuff?" Kurt asked, oblivious to Santana's annoyance.

"I'm trying to figure out which way we need to go to get to Port Lima," she replied. "Also, I think we need a new map. This one's got lines drawn all over it."

"Lemme see," Kurt said, getting up off the bed and leaning over Santana's shoulder. "You gotta start by putting the compass on the compass rose." He moved the compass to the corner of the map. "Now move the map so that the needle is pointing north."

"Wow, for real?" Santana said sarcastically. "I had no idea that's how you did it."

"Alright, calm down! I'm just getting started," Kurt replied. He took the pencil from Santana's hand. "So Port Lima is here," he said. "And we're somewhere around here. Which means..." He looked across Santana's desk and picked up a protractor, "that we need to go at a thirty degree angle from the north." Santana watched him as he lined up the protractor with the map and began to draw a line. She would never admit it, but she was actually grateful that Kurt was helping her. Schuester had usually taken care of navigation stuff by himself, so she didn't really know how to do it.

"Did you learn this in school?" she asked.

"We did angles and stuff, yeah," Kurt replied. "And we spent a lot of time with maps. Move." He shooed Santana out of the way so that he could adjust the map to line up with the compass.

"That sounds interesting," Santana said without a trace of sarcasm. Most of them made fun of Kurt for being the only one that had actually gone to school. Mike and Tina had had some schooling when they were younger, but they had both gone to work once they turned twelve. Santana didn't know too much about Kurt's upbringing except that his family had been rich enough to continue educating him into his teenage years. Among the pirates, school was seen as elitist and a waste of time, but Santana secretly thought it sounded fun. But since her parents had been pirates, Santana had moved around too much to have the time for it.

"There," Kurt said, leaning back. "We just need to make sure that this line on the compass is always lined up with our bow, and then we'll be going the right way." He handed the compass to Santana.

"Thank you so much," she said. "You're a life saver."

"Yeah, I know," Kurt replied. "And don't worry. I won't tell anyone about your incompetence." He winked and Santana scowled at him. Just then, the galley bell rang.

"Yay, breakfast," Santana said. "Thank God." She rolled up her map and followed Kurt out onto the deck. He made a beeline for the galley, but Santana stopped to look up at crow's nest, where Tina and Brittany were beginning their descent. Santana watched Brittany with some trepidation, but to her surprise, Brittany climbed down the rigging expertly. As the two of them dropped onto the deck, Santana approached Tina. "What did Brittany say?" Santana asked, a little too interestedly. "Did you talk to her?"

Tina shrugged. "A little," she said. "She didn't say much. Just that she liked looking out at the ocean, and it had been a long time."

Santana nodded. She wasn't sure how Tina had managed to have such a long, wordless interaction with Brittany, but then again, Tina herself was pretty quiet. Until she saw something from the crow's nest, that is. Santana walked over to Brittany, who was wiping her hands on her pants. "How are you doing?" she asked gently.

"Fine," Brittany replied.

"Do you want some breakfast?" she asked. Brittany just shrugged. "I saw you up in the crow's nest. Did you like it up there?"

"It was nice."

"Good," Santana said. There was an awkward silence as the crew around them headed over towards the galley to get food. "So we've decided to go to a place called Port Lima. We can drop you off there. You can probably get a job in a restaurant or a bar." She looked at Brittany. "Have you been there before?" Brittany shook her head. "It's nice. You'll like it."

"Okay."

Santana watched Brittany for any sign of emotion, but Brittany remained expressionless. "Come on, I'm going to get something to eat," Santana said, leading the way towards the galley. Brittany followed her. Finn was inside, spooning porridge into bowls, and he had sliced some of their new apples.

"We've got sugar," Finn said happily as Santana picked up a bowl. "I didn't put any in the porridge because I know how mad Quinn gets when there's too much, so it's self-serve."

"Nice," Santana said, taking a scoop of sugar from the bag. She grabbed a few apple slices and turned Brittany. Brittany was eyeing the food warily. "Go ahead, take some," she said.

"I...I'm not that hungry," she replied. Santana looked at her with concern.

"Are you sure?" she asked, remembering the uneaten food from last night.

"I'm sure," Brittany said. Then she paused. "Um. Can I have some apples?"

"Of course," Santana said. Finn found an empty bowl for her and put several apple slices inside. "How are the apples, by the way?" she asked Finn.

"They're great," Finn said. "Really ripe." He turned to Brittany and smiled. "I like to put a little sugar on them, though. You want some?"

Brittany hesitated and then nodded shyly. "Yes please," she said.

Finn sprinkled a spoonful of sugar over the apples and then handed the bowl to Brittany. "Here you are," he said. "Come back if you want anything else, okay?" Brittany nodded and Santana led the way out onto the deck.

"Come on, let's sit," she said, taking a seat on top of a box of gunpowder. Brittany sat beside her and began nibbling on an apple.

"That guy is nice," she said after a while.

"Who, Finn?" Santana asked. "Yeah, I guess he's okay. He works best when he's in the kitchen, it's like his element or something," she said.

"Is he good at it?"

Santana nodded. "He is." There was another long pause, and Santana took the opportunity to shovel half of her porridge into her mouth. Brittany continued to eat daintily, but Santana was happy to see that she was actually finishing her apples.

"I use to like to cook," Brittany said after a while.

"For real?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I liked making things out of food. I made up a lot of my own recipes."

Santana noticed Brittany's continued use of the past tense. Surely cooking had been one of her jobs on Karofksy's ship? Santana wanted to ask about it, but this was the most Brittany had talked so far, and Santana knew she could shut up at any moment. "What's your favorite thing to make?" she asked instead.

Brittany looked down into her bowl and smiled. "Cake," she said.

"I love cake," Santana said. Brittany looked up at her.

"Really?"

Santana nodded. "Yep. Love it. It's the best."

"Me too," Brittany said, picking up another apple. An awkward silence followed.

"What else do you like to eat?" Santana asked finally. Brittany just shrugged. "Only cake?"

"No," Brittany said. Santana waited for her to say more, but she didn't. They finished their breakfast in silence and Santana became aware that it was her turn at the helm. She started to stand up.

"I have to go," she said. "I'll talk to you later."

Brittany swallowed a bite of apple. "Okay," she said. As Santana started to walk away, she suddenly said, "I like these apples. Know why?"

Santana turned around in surprise. "Why?"

"If you hadn't gotten them, we wouldn't have met." She bit her lip and then looked back down in her bowl. Santana blinked hard. She didn't know what to say, without bringing up the _Titan_, Karofksy's mistreatment, the scared look in Brittany's eyes.

"Yeah," she replied stupidly. "Good thing I like apples."

Brittany didn't look up, and Santana hurried away towards the helm to take over for Blaine. "What's up with you?" Blaine asked. "You look flustered."

"I just realized...I _suck_ at talking to girls."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Not A Real Doctor**

For the rest or the morning, the crew went about their usual jobs. Santana watched them while she stood at the helm. She saw Brittany wandering around on deck for a little while, but the unfamiliar people seemed to make her nervous, because it wasn't long before she disappeared below deck. She came back up when the galley bell rang for lunch, but she took only a piece of bread and didn't even attempt to try one of Finn's sandwiches. Santana was beginning to seriously worry about Brittany's protein intake. "She's just nervous," Quinn said when Santana voiced her concerns. "And who knows what she ate like on that ship. This is probably a feast for her."

"Maybe," Santana said, but she still felt worried. She finished eating and watched as Brittany stood by the railing, looking down at the ocean and relishing the spray as it came up and hit her face. Santana smiled a little bit and then went over to see Mike. He was sitting by the bow, and when he saw Santana approaching, he stood quickly.

"Hey Captain," he said. "Do you need something?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "I need your doctor expertise."

Not long after Mike had come aboard their ship, Quinn had tripped on the deck and a splinter of wood had buried itself deeply in her hand. Tina informed all of them that Mike's dad had been the doctor in their village and that Mike had helped as an assistant before he and Tina had run away. Mike had modestly denied any medical abilities, but he had remembered how to clean and stitch a wound properly. Ever since then, he'd acted as the unofficial doctor of the _McKinley_.

"Sure, I'll do what I can," Mike said. "But I have to warn you, I might not be able to help with anything serious."

"It's not serious, just some cuts and bruises," Santana said. The difficult part would be getting Brittany to let them examine her, but they could deal with that when they got there. "We'll meet you in my cabin," she said. Then she walked over to where Brittany was standing.

"Hi," Santana said. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Brittany said quietly.

"Did you eat lunch?"

"Sorta," Brittany replied. She tugged at the sleeve of her shirt and looked around awkwardly.

"So...I was wondering if you could come into my cabin for a little bit," Santana said carefully. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Brittany began to look uncomfortable. "Okay," she said. "I guess."

"It won't be anything too serious, don't worry," Santana said, already feeling bad for lying. If this was how Brittany felt about a simple conversation, how was she going to react when Santana told her to strip down and show them her injuries? Brittany followed her obediently to the cabin and Santana opened the door, motioning for her to go inside. Then she locked the door behind them. "Brittany, this is Mike," Santana said.

Mike, who was standing by the bed, gave a friendly wave. "Hey," he said.

"He's a doctor," Santana continued. "We just wanted to check out some of your cuts."

Brittany paled. "I'm fine."

"We just want to look," Santana said gently.

"No, please," Brittany said more firmly. "I'm fine, I promise."

"We just want to make sure," Mike said. "It won't take long."

Santana led a protesting Brittany over to the bed and sat her down gently. She leaned in close. "We won't touch you or look at anything, just the injuries," she said quietly. "I can even leave the room if you want."

"No," Brittany said quickly, shaking her head. "No, stay."

"Alright," Santana said. "I'll stay."

Mike moved towards them, looking a little uncomfortable. "I'll just need you to take off your pants and roll up the sleeves on your shirt. Nothing else."

"Okay," Brittany said weakly. She reached for the button on her pants and began to undo it with fumbling fingers. It took a while, but eventually she was able to slide the pants off her legs. Then she rolled up her sleeves above the elbow and looked at the two of them, visibly trembling.

"Lean back on the pillows," Santana suggested, and Brittany crawled up towards the head of the bed. Santana looked down at her legs. There were bruises, though not as bad as the ones on her arms, and many cuts that looked too jagged to have been inflicted on purpose.

"Do you fall down a lot?" Mike asked. Brittany nodded.

"I think most of those are from tripping a-and bumping into things," Brittany said.

"And being pushed around?" Santana asked gently. Brittany bit her lip and nodded.

"What were the conditions like on your last ship?" Mike asked, leaning in close to inspect one of the cuts. Santana was grateful that he didn't try to touch it, as Brittany already looked like she wanted to run from the room. "Was it clean?"

"N-no," Brittany replied. "I mean, some parts. We, uh, we had to sleep in one of the cargo holds and we had to clean it ourselves if we wanted to, but we never had time because of...because of our jobs we had to do on the r-rest of the ship."

"This one looks like it could be a little bit infected," Mike said. "I have some alcohol that I can put on it, and then I can bandage it so it doesn't get dirty. It won't heal otherwise."

Brittany gulped. "Okay."

Mike walked around to the other side of the bed and began to look at Brittany's arms. The pattern of bruising was obviously due to someone grabbing her roughly. Even Santana, with her untrained eye, could see that. She held her breath, hoping Mike wouldn't ask her about it. She didn't. "These will heal on their own," he said. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"Not a lot," Brittany said.

As Mike continued to examine Brittany, Santana looked back down at Brittany's legs. Last time her eyes had gone straight to the injuries, but now she started to notice the patches of smooth, unblemished skin in between. She took note of how her own shirt on Brittany's taller frame fell only an inch or two down the tops of her thighs, leaving the rest of her bottom half completely exposed. Despite the fact that Brittany was unnaturally thin, the muscles in her thighs and calves looked strong and defined. Santana swallowed hard and forced herself to looked away. "Whoa," Mike said. "Is your hand okay?" He pointed down to the first two fingers on Brittany's left hand.

"Oh," Brittany replied. "They're just stiff." Santana leaned down to look at the fingers more closely. It wasn't immediately noticeable, but up close they definitely looked swollen and slightly purple.

"Can you move them?" Mike asked. Brittany winced as she attempted to wiggle her fingers. They barely moved.

"It hurts," she admitted.

Mike reached for her hand. "May I?" he asked. Brittany nodded and turned her head so that she was looking away from him. He picked up her hand gently in his own and moved her fingers a little bit. Brittany winced. "They don't look broken," he concluded after a moment.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," she said.

"But they're badly sprained. I should wrap them up. And you need to be careful with them. Do you use your left hand or your right?"

Brittany blinked, confused. "My right," she said. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Okay, that's good," Mike said. "I thought everyone did, too, but not this girl over here." He cocked his head towards Santana. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I get it, I'm weird and creepy," she said.

Mike chuckled. "I'm going to take care of these things, okay," he said, turning away from Brittany and reaching for his bag.

Santana knelt down on the floor next to the bed to keep Brittany's attention while Mike took care of her wounds. Brittany cringed slightly when he dripped alcohol on the cut on her leg, but it was the wrapping of her fingers that proved the most painful. She was doing her best to stay composed, but Santana could tell she was in agony. Her muscles were quivering and her eyes were screwed up. "Hey," Santana said to try and distract her, "you're going to have a cool bandage on your hand now. You'll look like a real pirate."

"It-it's weird that you use your left hand," Brittany spluttered. "Why is it like that?" She let out a muffled moan as Mike adjusted the position of her fingers before wrapping the bandage over them.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I need to make sure they set the right way."

"I've just always used my left hand," Santana said with a shrug. "I don't know why. My parents thought it was really weird, they never knew anyone else like that."

"My-my maid used to s-say that it was—the devil's hand," Brittany said. She let out a strangled laugh that sounded more like a sob. "I-I never believed it."

"It's not true, I promise," Santana said. In the back of her mind, she filed away the information that Brittany used to have a maid. It wasn't much, but it hinted at some kind of life beyond being a slave on a pirate ship, some life that Santana was very curious to learn more about. But now was not the time. "Who knows, though, maybe I am the devil and I just don't know it."

"I d-doubt it," Brittany said. Mike finally finished with her hand and she let out a sigh of relief, relaxing her muscles and breathing deeply. "Is that all?" she asked after a moment.

"Yeah, that's everything...that I can get to, anyway," Mike said, eyeing her shirt sheepishly. He made eye contact with Santana, but Santana just shook her head. She knew they had already gone way past Brittany's boundaries and she didn't want to force the girl to do anything else. "If anything hurts or isn't getting better, let me know," Mike said.

"I will," Brittany said. "Thanks." She sat up slightly and looked around the room. "My pants..." she muttered.

"It's okay," Santana said. "Just stay here and rest. Mike and I will leave. I'll tell everyone not to disturb you."

Brittany nodded. "Okay," she said. "Thank you." She let her head fall back onto the pillows, looking exhausted. Mike packed up his medicines and bandages and he and Santana walked out of the cabin, closing the door quietly behind them.

"That was strange," Mike said as soon as Brittany was out of earshot.

Santana looked around carefully to make sure none of the crew was listening to them. "Strange how?" she asked quietly.

Mike sighed heavily. "Those injuries aren't accidental," he said.

"I know," Santana said. "It was pretty obvious, from what I saw happening when we were on the _Titan_."

"My dad used to sometimes get patients that had been attacked like that," Mike continued. "You know, beat up and stuff. And they wouldn't let him touch them either." He hesitated and then spoke even more quietly. "Do you think she may have been, like, sexually assaulted?"

Santana sighed heavily. The thought had crossed her mind, but she hadn't really wanted to think about it, let alone say it aloud. "She'll talk about it when she wants to...if she ever does," she said with a shrug. "The best we can do is just try to make sure she's okay while she's with us."

"Yeah, alright," Mike said with a nod. "Let me know if you need anything else, Captain."

"I will," Santana said as Mike walked away. Finn, who had been lingering not too far away, saw that Santana was unoccupied and came up beside her.

"Hey Cap, guess what?" Finn asked excitedly.

"What?"

"I'm gonna make spice cake tonight. Your favorite."

Santana was still distracted but she forced a smile. "Thanks Finn," she said. Then she had a thought. "Wait...I need you to do something for me."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Can you let Brittany help you with the cake? She says she's cooked before. You can give her easy jobs."

Finn shrugged. "Yeah, she can help. That's fine."

"Really?" Santana asked.

"Yeah. I don't have a problem with it."

"Excellent," Santana said. "Thanks a ton, Finn."

Finn went back to the galley and Santana walked around several times to make sure that everyone was doing their job. There was nobody to reprimand, but that didn't mean that she wanted a break just yet. She was beginning to feel antsy and she wanted something to do. When she asked Quinn if she could help her clean the deck, Quinn said no. "You've been acting weird recently," she said. "Have you been sleeping?"

"Only a little," Santana admitted.

"Why don't you take a nap?"

"I'm not tired," Santana said with a huff.

Quinn was uninterested in talking and there was nothing else to do, so Santana decided to go down to the rum cellar. At the very least, drinking might help her stop worrying about Brittany. Santana was somewhat disturbed by this obsession that she was developing. She supposed this must be what it felt like to care for someone. She tried to think compare it to the way she'd felt about her parents, but she failed to stir up any similar memories. Her mom and dad had both died before she was old enough to worry about them.

When Santana pulled open the door to the cellar, she was surprised to hear quiet voices coming from somewhere within the shelves. There was giggling and whispering, and when Santana heard the unmistakable sound of lips smacking together, she closed the door behind her as quietly as she could and began to creep forward. The sound got closer and closer, and as she craned her neck around a shelf to see who was behind it, she bumped right into a box. The hard wood dug into her shin and she said, "Ow!" before she was able to stop herself.

The voices shushed each other and Santana heard a whisper of, "Someone's here." Sighing in defeat, she straightened up and walked around the corner. She looked through the dark cellar to see Kurt and Blaine, standing only inches apart and looking at her with wide, fearful eyes. Both boys had pink cheeks and Blaine's hat was askew. "H-hi Captain," he said. "What's up?"

Santana smirked. "Not much," she said, "what's up with you?" Kurt backed awkwardly away from Blaine.

"We were just getting something to drink," Kurt said. "Can I grab you a bottle?"

Santana scoffed. "I've never known you to drink, Hummel," she said.

Kurt shrugged weakly. "I mean...I was just..."

Santana grabbed a bottle off the shelf closest to her and rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it, I was just leaving." She looked smugly at Blaine, who had turned a deep shade of red. "As you were," she said, lifting her bottle towards them in a toast before turning around to go back the way she came. She was careful not to bump into the box on her way out.

She went back up onto the deck, still laughing quietly to herself. Kurt and Blaine were incredibly unsubtle; it was ridiculous, coming from men who called themselves pirates. Blaine had always had an unfortunate weakness for Kurt, and it seemed to be getting worse and worse. Santana had never fallen in love before, but she hoped that if she ever did, she would do it with more finesse than Blaine Anderson.

Equipped with her drink, she decided to go back to her cabin and maybe get a few more words out of Brittany. When she crept back inside, however, Brittany was in the same position that Santana had left her in, still sleeping deeply. Santana watched her as she sat down at her desk and uncorked her bottle. Brittany had obviously fallen asleep too quickly to put her pants back on, and her legs were still sprawled out above the blankets. Santana raised the bottle to her lips and settled back in her chair, trying to find a comfortable position so that she could doze off. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from Brittany's peaceful form, until she finally got up and draped her own coat over Brittany's bottom half. It was quite warm in the cabin and Brittany didn't need a blanket but...well, those legs. They were distracting.

It wasn't long before the bottle of rum was finished and Santana was lying still, not really asleep but not entirely awake either. The liquor in her brain was making her feel disoriented and immobile, and she couldn't quite tell the passage of time. Brittany kept making little noises in her sleep, and Santana watched her, trying to will the girl's nightmares away. Suddenly, Brittany jerked violently, throwing the blanket from her legs. She sat up and looked at Santana, blinking hard. "Where am I?" she gasped.

"You're on the _McKinley_," Santana said; the words were difficult to get out of her mouth. "In my cabin." She watched Brittany's breathing slowed to normal. Then Brittany looked down at her uncovered legs.

"Oh yeah I remember," she said, pulling the jacket back over herself. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Santana asked. Brittany just shrugged.

"Have you been watching me?" she asked after a moment.

Santana felt her face heat up, but she wasn't really sure why. She hadn't _really _been watching her, only kind of. "No," she said. "I was just...drinking. And sitting."

"Oh." Brittany looked a little uncomfortable and Santana cursed herself. Of _course_ that sounded voyeuristic. Drinking and sitting...she should have said she was looking at her map, at the very least.

"I wasn't watching you," Santana said again for clarification. "I just put the coat over you because I was worried you might get cold or something."

"Okay," Brittany said. "Thanks." She looked at her pants that were sitting at the foot of the bed and then raised her eyes to meet Santana. She was blushing. "Can you...maybe turn around?"

"Of course!" Santana said a little too loudly. She quickly turned her chair around and set her empty bottle of rum down on the desk, staring at her pencil and compass. Her cheeks were on fire now and she was sure they were red—for some reason, the idea that Brittany was getting dressed right behind her seemed to be a cause for intense embarrassment. Or interest. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Done," Brittany said, and Santana turned around. Brittany was standing by the bed, her hands on her now-covered waist, looking at Santana curiously. Santana shivered under her gaze. It was almost as if Brittany could sense the inappropriate and unwarranted thoughts that were going through her head.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked as innocently as she could.

Brittany shrugged. "I slept okay."

"It kinda seemed like you were having a bad dream," Santana said. "You were whimpering a little."

To Santana's surprise, the side of Brittany's mouth curved up in what could almost be described as a smile. Almost. "You _were _watching me," she said.

Santana looked down at her lap. "Not really," she replied defensively.

"It's alright," Brittany said quietly. Santana looked back up at her. Their eyes met. Santana gulped. She shouldn't be feeling like this, like Brittany was staring right into her soul, like...why was her leg shaking? Santana placed a hand on her own thigh to steady it. "It's sort of hot in here," Brittany remarked.

Santana's eyes widened. Could she feel it too? "Yeah," she replied, her mouth dry. "It is a little..."

"Captain!" Finn's voice called from outside, followed by a knock on the door. "Are you in there? I'm about to start making the cake for dinner."

Santana practically jumped out of her seat. "I'll be right there!" she called out. Then she turned to Brittany. "Come on, I have a surprise for you," she said, crossing quickly to the door. She threw it open and stepped outside, hoping there would be a breeze to cool her skin and stop her pounding heart.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! I uploaded a diagram of a pirate ship to my Tumblr (link is on my profile, my URL is sinfulperfection) with the tag "itao" in case you want to see the approximate layout that I am imagining for the _McKinley_...it's not exact, but if you don't know anything about ships it might help.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Spice Cake**

"So Finn is going to make spice cake tonight," Santana told Brittany as they left the cabin. "He says you can help him out. If you want to, of course."

"Alright," Brittany said. She looked a little apprehensive but excited all the same. Finn smiled at her encouragingly.

"It's not hard," he promised. "And it's going to taste amazing. You can have the first bite."

"Okay," she replied shyly.

"What's going to taste amazing?"

Santana turned around to see Puck walking towards them, a cigar resting between his fingers. He took a long drag and blew out slowly, eyeing Brittany as he did so. Santana narrowed her eyes at him. Wasn't he supposed to be working?

"Spice cake," Finn said. "Brittany and I are going to make it."

"I'll help," Puck said immediately.

"You don't know how to cook," Santana said. "All you do is eat the raw food." She was thinking about the one time that Puck had eaten several bites of raw chicken and had spent the next several days with an awful case of food poisoning. The heads had never quite been the same since...

"Taste testing is important!" Puck said indignantly. He looked at Finn and Brittany. "Come on, let's go. I'll supervise."

The three of them headed off towards the galley. When Santana was satisfied that Brittany was safe with Finn and Puck, she wandered out onto the main part of the deck. Mercedes was sitting on the steps with Sam and she waved Santana over. "Hey Captain," she said. "We were just talking about the _Dalton_. Sam was asking about the time Schue got kidnapped."

"Cedes says that we might run into them at Port Lima," Sam said uncertainly. "Do you think that's true?"

"It's not completely out of the question," Santana said. "But I think we're okay. We haven't seen them in months, they've probably given up on us by now to follow some other pirate ship."

"What exactly happened last time?" Sam asked.

"I tried to tell him the story, but I couldn't remember all the details," Mercedes added.

"Well," Santana began. She looked at the two of them. "It's a long story. You ready for it?"

"For sure," Sam said, and Mercedes nodded vigorously.

"Alright," Santana said. "So about a year ago, the _Dalton _caught up with us near Rum Reef Island. It's a pretty popular pirate docking place, so we'd had run-ins with the Royal Navy there before. All of their captains were kind of ineffective. Our ship is faster than theirs, and they were too scared to try to attack us or anything. The few times they actually tried to arrest us for piracy, we were able to buy them off or scare them away. We had never seen the _Dalton _before, but we just figured they would be more of the same. So we hid our Jolly Roger and tried to stay out of their way."

Sam nodded. "That makes sense," he said. "The Navy is always scared of us."

"Yeah, exactly," Santana continued. "So we were drinking and celebrating and nobody wanted to leave early. Schuester was in some brothel somewhere so the crew came to me for orders. I told them we'd deal with them in the morning."

"Who was on the crew back then?" Sam asked.

"Me, Blaine, Quinn, Puck, and a few other guys that ended up deserting us before any of you joined up. Oh, and Finn, I always forget about him. Anyway, the crew didn't question me when I told them not to worry about the _Dalton_, because like I said, we'd dealt with ships like them before. We all went to an inn and got rooms for the night. Puck and I went upstairs together. I had planned to check on things in a few hours, but the two of us got carried away, and next thing I knew, I was waking up because the sun was streaming in through the window. So I woke Puck quickly and said that we should make sure everything was okay."

Santana paused and Sam asked, "Was it?"

"Not at all. The first thing we noticed when we went downstairs was that nobody was sitting in the bar except these two men in Navy uniforms. They started questioning us; who we were, what we were doing there. I told them we were just on vacation and had stayed in the inn for the night. It wasn't really a lie. He asked how we got there and I said we were on an independent merchant ship. They seemed suspicious but finally let us go—I guess a man and a woman traveling together isn't really that suspicious. But we knew immediately that something wasn't right. The Navy had never questioned us before. Like I said, they usually preferred to avoid conflict.

"So we left and went through the village, looking for the rest of our crew. It took about two hours, but we finally located everyone. They'd all caught on to the fact that the Navy men were lurking, and they had decided to try and lay low. We went back to the ship and hid below deck for the rest of the day. Everyone made it back—except Schuester."

"Figures," Mercedes said with a snort.

"Yeah, he wasn't the brightest. At first, we just thought he was being an idiot and we didn't worry too much. But when he still didn't come back the next morning, we knew that something had gone wrong. We split up and searched the island, and when nobody could find him, we knew there was only one place he could be."

"The _Dalton_," Sam said.

"Exactly," Santana replied. "We didn't know what to do. We snooped around the ship a couple times but then they set up a guard. And the guards kept looking at us smugly, like they knew that we knew they had our captain, but we couldn't do anything about it. They seemed to have found out that we were pirates, all in a crew together, but they didn't try to arrest us or anything. We decided that they only thing we could do was attack them. So we spent about a day gathering weapons and making plans. We decided to do it in the dead of night, when hopefully they would be least expecting it."

"So you attacked?" Mercedes asked breathlessly. She and Sam were both leaning towards Santana, listening with extreme interest. Santana smiled, eager to drag out the suspense.

"We didn't," she said finally. "Several hours before we wanted to attack them, they started to sail away. We readied our ship to follow them, but then we didn't have to. About a hundred yards offshore, they brought Schuester out and made him walk the plank. He swam back to us and they sailed away."

"Did he say what they wanted?" Sam asked.

Santana shrugged. "He didn't know. He said they searched him and interrogated him. They asked where he was going, where he'd been, what we were up to. Schue admitted we were pirating, but they didn't really seem to care. He said it seemed like they were looking for something specific, and when he had nothing, they let him go."

"But then they came back for us, didn't they?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah," Santana replied. "We've seen them a couple times, though we always outrun them. But they seem to have figured out that we like Port Lima."

"Yeah, I remember last time," Sam said. "They were docked there and we had to turn around. Finn was so mad."

"They do seem to be hell-bent on catching us," Santana said. "Those other guys on our crew," she turned to Mercedes, "the ones you, Mike, and Tina replaced, they left us. They said they didn't want to be on a known pirate ship that was being singled out by one of the most ruthless Navy ships in the Caribbean."

Sam nodded. "The _Dalton _is intense. I heard about them on the last ship I was on. Apparently, they're looking for more than just arrests. They like to torture and steal. They're just like pirates themselves."

"That's what I've heard, too," Santana replied. "But they didn't really do that much to us last time. Anyway, I'm not too worried. We've never run into trouble at Port Lima. And we haven't seen them in several weeks."

"I'm sure we could fight them off," Sam said boldly. "We have more people now, and you as a Captain. I know we'll be fine."

"If you're trying to suck up, Trouty Mouth, it's not going to work. I've still got you down to clean the oatmeal pan tomorrow morning."

Sam shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

Suddenly, there was a cry from behind the galley, followed by Puck swearing loudly. Mercedes looked up in surprise. "What was that?" she asked.

Santana shrugged. "Finn dropped something, probably." As she spoke, Brittany suddenly came out from behind the galley, hurrying towards the hold. She took one, frightened look at Santana before jumping into the hatch. Puck came from the galley next, looking at the top of Brittany's head as it disappeared below.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled after her. Then he looked up at the rest of the crew as they stared at him. "Jesus, I didn't do anything. I have no idea what just happened."

Santana got to her feet, torn between wanting to follow Brittany and wanting to find out what had happened. She decided on the latter. "What's going on?" she demanded, marching towards Puck.

Puck moved towards the railing, out of earshot of everyone else, and Santana followed him. "I just touched her and she freaked out on me and bit me!" he said.

"What?" Santana eyed Puck suspiciously. "Bit you where?"

"Right here," Puck said, leaning his head to the side to show the red bite marks on his neck. "And it wasn't in a sexy way either, it fucking hurt! Then she slapped me and ran away."

"Puck, what the hell happened?" Santana asked in a dangerous voice. "You better tell me, or I'll get the story from Brittany."

Puck avoided her eyes. "We were just talking..." he began.

"Don't lie to me." Santana was worried and she needed to know what had gone down. Like, right now.

"Okay, so I might have groped her just a little bit!" Puck said, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "It wasn't a big deal, we were just talking! Then I put my arms around her and she totally freaked."

"Is that _all_?" Santana asked. Her hand balled into a fist and Puck looked at it. He gulped.

"And maybe tried to kiss her neck a little. That's when she bit me."

"You asshole!" Santana smacked him as hard as she could on the shoulder. Puck staggered back and looked at her resentfully.

"Hey!" he said. "I didn't know she was gonna do that! It's not my fault, it's not like I attacked her or anything!"

"She has trouble with contact and stuff like that! She's not _okay_, Puck!"

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" To Puck's credit, he _did _look sorry, but Santana wasn't having any of it.

"You always do this, you're constantly hitting on girls, did you ever think that maybe it's not very respectful? You've hooked up with me, with Quinn, with Mercedes...who are you gonna try for next? I guess you can't have Tina because she's taken. So you waited for a fresh piece of meat, is that it?"

"Come on, Santana, you know I'm not like that!" Puck said. "Okay, so I like girls, a lot—but I never tried to hurt or disrespect any of you! I just want to protect you guys, you know that!" He shrugged and then said quietly, "It's not my fault. I'm a sex shark."

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," Santana said, smacking his chest. It didn't appear to have much of an effect on him, and she turned around angrily. "I'm going downstairs to see if she's okay. When I come back, I expect that spice cake to be done and waiting for me on a silver platter!" She stomped down the ladder, ignoring the strange looks from the rest of the crew that had overheard her yelling. She was so angry that she didn't even notice Brittany waiting by the foot of the ladder until she had walked past her.

"I'm sorry," Brittany said quietly, causing Santana to jump. She turned around as Brittany stepped out of the shadows. "I shouldn't have screamed. Is he hurt?"

"Are you kidding me? He's fine," Santana said bitterly.

"I feel bad for biting him."

"Don't," Santana interrupted. "He's just...he does this all the time." She took a deep breath, finally calming down somewhat. She knew she shouldn't have flown off the handle at Puck—he really wasn't a bad guy—but she was so fearful of Brittany's reaction that she hadn't known what else to. "You don't have to apologize, he knows you're..."

"Not okay?" Brittany finished for her. Santana bit her lip. Obviously, if Brittany had been standing right below the steps, she'd heard the whole thing.

"I didn't mean it like that," Santana said quickly. "There's nothing wrong with you. It's just..."

"I know," Brittany said. "I know a lot of bad things have happened to me. I know it makes me act weird and I know I'm hard to deal with." She sat down on one of the steps and looked down sadly.

"Brittany, you're not hard to deal with!" Santana said quickly. "It's not your fault what that—what that horrible _monster_ did to you!"

"Puck isn't a monster," Brittany said.

"No, not Puck, I meant Karofksy."

Brittany's eyes filled with tears. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and sobbed, tears falling thick and fast into her lap. Santana just watched helplessly, wishing she hadn't said anything at all. Wishing Puck—despite his good intentions—had just let the poor girl enjoy one moment of happiness cooking with Finn. She wanted Brittany's suffering to end and she wanted to know how to make it happen.

"I j-just...I'm _so_ sorry," Brittany said between tears. "As soon as we get to the port I'm leaving...I promise."

Santana watched, her heart aching. "Don't worry," she said. "We'll be there tomorrow morning. You're going to be okay."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Brittany's Story**

They docked at Port Lima at dawn. Puck offered to take Schuester to the outskirts of town and release him there. Santana suspected it was just an excuse to avoid her for a while; and it was smart, seeing as she still had half a mind to throw him into the brig. The rest of the crew took the opportunity to sleep in, and most of them did not emerge from the hull until the sun was high in the sky. When everyone was up, they divided up the gold from their most recent plunder and got ready to go into have some fun. Kurt and Blaine offered to stay as guards until after lunch. Santana knew exactly why they wanted to be together, and though she questioned their effectiveness as a pair, she decided to let them do it. The _McKinley _was a common fixture at Port Lima and she doubted anyone would try to rob them, especially in broad daylight.

"Well, I'm off," Finn announced brightly. "Rachel's going to want to spend as much time with me as she can." He turned to Brittany and waved goodbye. "It was nice cooking with you last night. Hopefully I'll see you around sometimes."

Brittany waved shyly at Finn. Quinn sidled up to Santana just as she was pocketing her bag of gold and fixing her hair so that she looked less like a pirate and more like a respectable captain. She didn't want to make a bad impression on the honorable citizens of Port Lima. "Can't you keep him on the ship?" Quinn muttered, glaring at Finn. "Tell him he has to clean or do repairs or something?" Her cheeks were bright red with embarrassment but her jaw was set.

Santana smirked. "Oh come on, Quinn," she said. "He's not _really _dating her."

"Oh yeah?" Quinn said. "How do you know? Rachel seemed to really like him."

"Because. I just know. And if you went over there to see her instead of staying here moping, you would know, too! Not to mention you'd probably make some progress." Santana watched with satisfaction as Quinn turned even redder and looked after Finn's retreating form nervously. This was precisely why she didn't bother with dating anymore. She knew she'd just be teased, ans she preferred to be the one doing the teasing.

Quinn seemed to struggle internally for almost a minute. "I'll see you tonight," she muttered finally before rushing down the gangplank and following Finn to the Golden Oyster. Santana just laughed and shook her head as Brittany suddenly appeared by her side.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," Santana said. "Just Quinn and Finn. They're fighting over the same girl."

"Really?" Brittany cocked her head to the side. "I thought Quinn liked you."

"What?" Santana let out a short burst of laughter before she could stop herself. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?" Quinn was pretty and everything, and she _was_ Santana's good friend, but just...no.

Brittany smiled a tiny bit. "No reason," she said. Santana watched her carefully. Quinn hadn't said something to Brittany, had she?

The rest of the crew filed off the ship, waving goodbyes to Brittany as they went. Brittany seemed embarrassed about the attention, but Santana could also see a pleased blush on her cheeks. When everyone besides Kurt and Blaine had departed, Santana led Brittany down the gangplank and onto the dock. They set off through the town at a snail's pace—Santana was not yet sure where she should take Brittany, but she didn't really want to rush. Whenever they found a new home for her, they would have to say goodbye. "I can give you some gold so that you can stay in one of the inns for a while," Santana said. "There's no reason for you to start working right away."

"Thanks," Brittany said. "You don't have to do that."

"It's really nothing," Santana promised her. "Pillaging is fun, but we always end up with more money than we know what to do with."

"It must be nice," Brittany said. "Sailing around all the time, without worrying about anything."

"I mean, we worry sometimes," Santana said. "About enemy ships and storms getting supplies. Sometimes we run out of food for days at a time. Then Finn starts to serve soup every day, and pretty soon Quinn gets crabby. Tina starts living in the crow's nest—as if she doesn't already—and the boys lose their strength and start beating up on Peg Legs. But yeah, overall it's a pretty great life."

"You have a nice crew," Brittany said. After a pause, she added, "I'm gonna miss them."

Santana started to say that she would miss Brittany too, but it suddenly occurred to her how real that statement was. She _was _going to miss Brittany, so much that she didn't even want to think about it. Instead, she decided to keep Brittany talking for a while longer. The longer they talked, the more time they would have. "If you don't mind me asking," she began carefully, "how did you end up on Karofsky's ship in the first place?"

Brittany sighed. She didn't answer immediately, and just as Santana was about to tell her that she didn't have to share if she didn't want to, Brittany said, "It's kind of a long story. I don't know if you'll want to hear it all."

"I don't mind," Santana said. "I love hearing stories." Brittany still looked hesitant. "How about I buy us some lunch, and you can tell me about it?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, okay."

Happy that they had an excuse to spend some more time together, Santana led Brittany to a restaurant down the street. It wasn't one of the bars she usually liked to frequent—they didn't serve hard liquor—but it was the classiest place she knew of. "Come on," Santana said, leading her to one of the tables in the corner. They sat down and a waitress immediately descended upon them.

"Can I start you ladies off with a drink?" she asked.

"Water, please," Brittany said. Santana hesitated. She was sure that this place served wine and beer, but she didn't know if it was polite to drink when Brittany was not.

She sighed. "I'll have the same."

They got their water and Santana ordered stew and spice cake for the both of them. For a little while, they ate silently. Santana's own bowl was neglected as she watched Brittany eat with fascination, while telling herself that she was simply interested because it was the first time Brittany was eating properly. It was, additionally, the first time Santana had really gotten to look at her (while Brittany was awake, she reminded herself guiltily) when she wasn't nervously twitching and avoiding eye contact. When more than half the stew was gone from her bowl, Brittany set her spoon down.

"I used to live in a place called Port Carmel," she said. "Have you heard of it?"

Santana nodded. "Sure. We avoid it as much as we can. It's filled with navy idiots."

"Yeah," Brittany said with a small smile. "My old boyfriend is one of those."

"Oh." Santana looked at Brittany apologetically. "I didn't know..."

"It's okay," Brittany said quickly. "It's not as serious as it sounds. I was nine and he was eleven."

"Oh," Santana said again, this time in surprise. She laughed. "Well, that's cute."

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, it was okay. My dad was the governor, my mom died when I was a baby. Jesse St. James—that was my boyfriend—was the son of a commodore who my dad was friends with. We used to play a lot in my house. The palace, I guess." She shrugged. "It was nice."

"I thought you said your home was gone," Santana said. "Isn't Port Carmel still around?"

Brittany looked at Santana. "You know," she said, "for someone who likes stories, you're not very patient." The corners of her mouth twitched and Santana stared. Was Brittany...teasing?

"I'm sorry," she said. "Please continue."

"On my tenth birthday, there was an attack on our port," Brittany said. "Nobody was hurt, but my dad was worried. He said it wasn't an isolated incident. He thought that some pirates were organizing and that it would only be a matter of time before we were attacked again. A bunch of people thought they were going to take over the port completely."

"But the pirates lost, didn't they?" Santana said. She remembered hearing something about this particular pirate uprising from her parents, back when she was little.

"Yeah, they were defeated," Brittany said. "But it was close. And since I was the governor's only daughter, I had to leave. For my own safety." She paused and took a drink of water. Even though Santana had never been to Port Carmel, she could easily envision a tiny Brittany living there, running through the palace in fancy dresses while ladies' maids followed after her and tried to keep her from breaking the fine china. She wasn't even sure where these images were coming from, but they made her smile.

"So," Brittany continued once she had swallowed. "I said goodbye to Jesse and all of my friends, and I got on a boat in the middle of the night, with a guy named Captain Tanaka. Nobody knew where we were going, not even my dad, because he didn't want to be able to give up my location if he were forced to. We were on the ship for what felt like forever, and I was really lonely. Sometimes I would hide in the cellar for days at a time. I'm pretty sure everybody forgot that I was there."

"But weren't they supposed to be protecting you?" Santana asked. "I mean, if you were that important that you're dad had to send you away..."

Brittany shook her head. "Part of the good thing about being forgotten was that people were always having conversations that they weren't supposed to be having, when I was in the room and could easily hear them. I found out that they weren't really worried about me at all, they were just moving something for my dad. A chest."

Santana leaned in. "A chest?" Sounded like treasure to her. And if there was one thing Santana understood well, it was hiding treasure.

"I never found out what was in it," Brittany said. "I just heard them discussing it a lot. They were always talking about where to keep it once we got there—wherever we were going— and who was going to watch over it, who would tell my dad about it, that sort of thing. I guess that's what my dad was trying to keep safe. And I was just an extra thing shoved on that boat at the last minute."

"I'm sure it wasn't like that," Santana began, but Brittany held up a hand.

"It's okay," she said. "It doesn't matter. I was mad at first, but after many days of wandering around the cellar...I found it."

"The chest?" Santana asked in awe. "You found it?"

Brittany nodded. "I did," she said. "It wasn't that big. But it was old and rusty and kind of hidden behind a bunch of things."

"Did you open it?" Santana was breathless with anticipation. But Brittany shook her head.

"It was locked. I didn't try very hard to open it. I was ten, remember, so I was mostly just mad that my dad seemed to care more about the chest than me. I barely even thought about it."

"It's understandable," Santana said.

"Anyway, it wasn't until later that I realized I had the key."

"What?" Santana had been in the midst of raising her spoon to her mouth, and she set it down quickly. "What do you mean, you had the key?"

"I'm not positive, I only _thought_ I had the key," she said, somewhat impatiently. "I mean, I had _a _key. And later I thought it may have been _the_ key. But I don't have it anymore, anyway, so it doesn't really matter. I have to finish the story."

"Right, sorry," Santana said. "Continue."

"You asked how I got on Karofsky's ship," Brittany said. "Tanaka's crew finally landed on a small island called Tiburon. He took me to a house where a woman and two children lived. I guess he had a mistress there or whatever. My dad had told him to take care of me, but actually I was more of their slave." Brittany frowned distastefully. "I had to clean up after them, make food for them, and take care of their pigs. Well, actually, I liked the pigs. They were nice to me. But Tanaka and the rest of the family weren't. They were constantly yelling at me...or worse."

"Brittany..." Santana said softly. Brittany swallowed hard and continued.

"After many months, a ship came into town to tell us that Port Carmel had been attacked. My father was shot and killed. All the men that came with us to Tiburon had to go back. I was supposed to stay behind until the fighting was over. So I lived with Tanaka's mistress and children, which wasn't as bad since he was gone. They mostly ignored me. I spent most of the day sitting with the pigs and I waited..."

"Did you miss your dad?" Santana asked quietly. Hearing of his death was stirring up some of her own memories, some that she had been trying not to think about for quite some time. Brittany shrugged, her eyes hazy.

"I did and I didn't. He had been as good as dead to me ever since I'd been sent away. I think that in the back of my mind, I always suspected I wasn't going to get to go back. Hearing about him being killed...it didn't even feel real. After everything else that had happened to me, after suffering Tanaka's abuse almost every night for almost a year, I just couldn't bring myself to care." She shrugged. "It was selfish."

"It's not selfish," Santana said. "Believe me, I understand."

"Nobody ever came for me, though," Brittany said. "I think about three years went by. I heard that the Royal Navy fought off the pirates eventually and that Jesse's dad became the new governor. I found out that Jesse was working to become captain of his very own navy ship. But when he did become captain, he didn't come to save me."

"Maybe they couldn't find you," Santana suggested, though she knew as well as Brittany probably did that this was highly unlikely. After all, Tanaka and his crew had gone back to Port Carmel. They had known Brittany's whereabouts. And they hadn't bothered to tell anyone. The thought made Santana sick with anger.

"I knew they weren't looking for me," Brittany said. "So when I was thirteen, I ran away. I snuck aboard a ship and snuck back off at the next port. I stole food and kept myself alive. And when people started to catch on that I was taking things, I got on another ship and went somewhere else. And on and on. I think I've lived in about..." Brittany counted on her fingers. "Eleven places in the last five years. They weren't all bad. I actually lived in one of them for about a year, as a baker's assistant. But she kicked me out when I started working as a call girl." She shuddered. "Thank God I only had to do that once. It was horrible."

"Was Karofsky's ship just another one you tried to sneak aboard?"

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, I tried. They caught me, though, in the middle of the night, just as I was rushing down the gangplank. They wanted to kill me for stealing, so I told them that I was just looking for a place to work. And they said they needed a crew member." Brittany shrugged, and her lip began to tremble. "It seemed like a good deal. Actually, for the first little while, it was. They treated me horribly but at least I got some food."

"Oh, Brittany," Santana said, her heart aching at the thought of Brittany being desperate enough to work for Karofsky. "That man is a monster."

Brittany nodded. "I know. I realized that. At first, I was just blending in with the crowd, but over time he started to notice me. He asked me to come and clean his cabin personally. Everyone else was jealous because I got more time off than they did." Brittany smiled ruefully. "But he didn't just want me to clean."

"What did he do?" Santana asked apprehensively.

Brittany sighed. "Well, he started out by just showing up in the cabin when I was cleaning. He would just sit there watching me. And then he started asking me to do little things that were just weird, like to clean one spot again and again. I know he didn't care about cleanliness, either, because all his stuff was a mess and he never bothered to clean it before. He just..." Brittany trailed off. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just don't want to talk about it."

Santana nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. It's okay." Brittany spooned the last of her stew into her mouth as Santana watched her. "You've had a really hard life," she said. "I'm so sorry."

Brittany shrugged. "So have you, I bet. So have a lot of people."

Santana shook her head. "Not like that." She felt a powerful desire to take care of Brittany, to help her. Sure, she had given her food and clothes and a place to sleep for the last few days, but it wasn't enough. It could never be enough. How could she make up for almost ten years' worth of torture in only a few days? "I wish there was something else I could do for you," Santana said.

"You've done enough," Brittany said with a smile. "You bought me from Karofsky. What more could I ask?" Santana continued to look at her helplessly. "Look, you have spent way too much of your time helping me already. And now you're here, with me, while you should be getting supplies for your ship. And enjoying your break."

"I am enjoying it," Santana said. Then, to delay the inevitable moment when she and Brittany would have to part, she said, "Why don't I show you around a little bit?"

Brittany's eyes brightened. "Are you sure?" she asked. "You don't have to."

"I want to," Santana said, pulling some gold out of her pocket. She set it down on the table to pay for their meals. "Come on, let's go."

Brittany followed Santana out of the dark restaurant to the outside, where the sun was high in the sky. "It's so beautiful outside," Brittany said. "I love days like these."

"Yeah, they're great," Santana said, though her eyes were only fixed on Brittany. "Hopefully you can get a job working outside. It's much better than being in a dingy bar all day."

"I'd love that," Brittany said. They walked slowly through the streets, pausing to look through the windows of shops but not going inside. "This port is nice. Do you come here often?"

"Whenever we can," Santana said. "I love it here. Our old captain thought it was risky to take you here, but this is the best place for you to live. Trust me."

"This is the nicest place I've been in a long time." Brittany looked away, and Santana sensed that she was thinking again about her troubling past.

"So can you tell me about the key now?" Santana asked, hoping to change the subject. "Although I bet the chest is long gone."

"Yeah, probably," Brittany said. "I don't even think it was the right key anyway, that wouldn't make much sense. I found it when I was really little."

"Where did you find it?"

"Jesse found it, actually, in his basement. He gave it to me and I wore it as a necklace for a while. I thought it was kind of cool." She shrugged. "My cats liked it."

"And what happened to it?" Santana asked.

"I lost it in a poker game.

"A poker game, huh?" Santana said. "You like to gamble?"

Brittany blushed. "I guess, sometimes," she said.

"Sometimes?"

"Alright, a lot," Brittany admitted. "I'm pretty good. I was playing these guys in poker, and they raised me way more money than I owned. So I put in the key. It was stupid of them, really, since it's basically worthless. But they thought it would be cool and they took it. They ended up winning." She shrugged. "I haven't missed it."

"Well, it's too bad you didn't play cards with us on the ship before you left," Santana said. "Poker nights get really serious. But nobody can bluff for shit."

"I'm great at bluffing," Brittany said.

"I don't doubt it," Santana said. Brittany smiled. It was a great smile, one that Santana longed to see more of. The damaged girl she'd bumped into on the _Titan _had been hauntingly beautiful, but this happier version was cute and adorable and—Santana hated herself for thinking of it at that moment—someone she could definitely see herself falling for. Not that Santana had ever been in love before. But the intense protectiveness she'd felt for Brittany over the last few days had to be indicative of _something_.

"What are you thinking about?" Brittany asked. Santana looked up at the sound of her voice and saw she had stopped walking several paces ahead, and was looking at Santana curiously. Santana shrugged.

"I was just thinking about how sad I'll be to see you go," she said. "I know it's only been a little while, but it's been fun."

Brittany nodded. "Yeah," she said sadly. "It has been."

Santana wondered if it was time to ask Brittany the question that had been floating in her unconscious mind for the last few days. She knew that Brittany was glad to finally be free of the confines of a ship, and probably all she wanted to do right now was start her life over in some unknown town, but maybe... "Brittany," Santana began.

"I want to come with you," Brittany interrupted.

"What?"

"I want to come with you, on your ship," she said quickly. "I'll help you guys with whatever you need. I can do the work, I've done hard work before. And I'll get up at night for watch and I'll sleep in the hold with all the others. I promise I won't be a burden on you at all-"

Santana held up a hand to stop Brittany's stream of words. "Brittany," she said. "Of course you can come with us." Her heart was soaring and she tried to keep the grin off her face. Brittany, however, smiled more widely than Santana had ever seen.

"Really?" she asked. "I can?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "I...I guess I've been wanting to ask you for a while, I just wasn't sure what you wanted. But yes. Definitely yes." She paused. "You do realize you'd be a pirate, though, right? It's not as nice as the life you could have here, working in one of the restaurants."

"I know," Brittany said. "But it's what I want." She bit her lip and looked at Santana worriedly. "You're sure you want me? And the others, they won't mind?"

"I'm absolutely sure," Santana said. Then she reached forward and took Brittany's hands in her own. "I promise, Brittany," she said, "you'll never feel unwanted again."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: A Stealth Attack**

"Santana!"

Santana groaned and dropped Brittany's hands as she heard her name being called out. She looked down the road and saw Tina sprinting towards them as fast as she could go. "Santana," she said again when she got closer. "White sails—white sails on the horizon!" She stopped running and leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees.

"God, Tina, do you ever _stop_ being a lookout?" she asked, annoyed. She should have been grateful, really, that Tina was doing her job so well, but now her alone time with Brittany was interrupted. Not that she wanted alone time. It's just...it was nice to have a friend. Tina just shook her head, trying to catch her breath, and Santana looked apologetically at Brittany.

"Merchant ships usually belong to the Royal Navy," she explained. "And this one might be the _Dalton. _If there's one coming this way, we should get out before they realize we're here."

"Are we going to be okay?" Brittany asked, her eyes wide.

"Of course," Santana said. "The McKinley is the fastest ship in the Spanish main. But we have to leave as soon as possible." She looked deep into Brittany's eyes. "This is it," she said. "Your final chance to back out. Pirate or honorable woman, which will it be?" Despite the fact that Brittany had already agreed to go with her, Santana's heart was pounding against her chest. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to Brittany. Not after all she'd just learned about the girl. But Brittany just smiled.

"Pirate," she said. "I'm sure."

"Excellent." Santana grinned widely as Tina looked back and forth between them in confusion. Santana turned to her. "Tina," she barked. "Find everyone. Check every restaurant, store, and brothel, tell them we've got a Code Red and we need to be back on the ship stat. Brittany will help me pick up the food we need. Tell whoever you find first to get the firewood and a new mop."

"Yes, Captain," Tina said. "And what about the extra sails?"

"We've never needed extra sails before," Santana said. "Skip it, we can do without. The most important thing is that we're setting sail as soon as possible."

"Alright." Tina hurried back down the street, and Santana turned to Brittany.

"You ready for your first job as a crewmember?" Santana asked.

Brittany nodded. "Ready."

"Good," Santana replied. "Because we're going shopping."

They spent the next hour hurrying through Port Lima, stopping at shops to get barrels of salted pork, jars of dried beans, and bags of fruits and vegetables. The shop owners all recognized Santana from her frequent visits, and it was a shame that she couldn't stay longer to visit with them. They weren't her friends, exactly, but they made up a network of familiar people that Santana could always rely on to help her. Besides the _McKinley_, this town was her home—something she'd never had growing up. She was dying to show Brittany around, but it would have to wait. Luckily, though, there would be plenty of time for tourism later. When Brittany said, "You'll have to bring me back here sometime," Santana couldn't help but squeeze Brittany's good hand eagerly.

When they had everything they needed, Santana led Brittany back to the dock. They walked up the gangplank, their arms full with bags of goods. Mike and Puck greeted them at the top and began to unload the food from their hands, sorting it to store in the cellar and the galley. As Santana watched them, Quinn came up beside her. "Santana," she said gravely. "Tina's identified the ship as the _Dalton_."

Santana looked out over the horizon to the magnificent white-sailed ship that was drifting slowly in the absence of a strong wind. It was still about half a day's journey away from them, but if they had seen it, the _Dalton _had undoubtedly seen them. "The _Dalton_'s no faster than any other ship," Santana reasoned. "We can get away."

"That's not all. Tina says they're moving away from us." She looked at Santana and shrugged.

"Away?" Santana repeated.

Quinn nodded. "We're not sure why. But it looks like they don't want us."

Santana furrowed her brow. The _Dalton _had been chasing after them for almost a year. She found it highly unlikely that they would pass up a chance to fight, unless they were doing something really important. "I have a bad feeling about this," she said to Quinn. "We should leave as soon as possible. Who are we still waiting on?"

Quinn shrugged. "Puck!" she shouted. "Where is everyone? Come on, we need to hurry."

"I'll get them!" Puck yelled back, jumping over the railing and hurrying down the dock. Brittany approached Santana.

"Do you need me to do anything, Captain?" she asked uncertainly.

Santana smiled. "You don't have to call me Captain," she said.

Brittany shook her head. "Yes, I do," she said. "I'm part of the crew, remember?" She looked at Santana earnestly.

"Alright," Santana said. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the new package of cigars she'd bought. "Why don't you go put these in my cabin for me? In one of the desk drawers, so nobody takes them."

"Sure," Brittany said. She took the package from Santana's hands and turned away. Santana looked behind her to the railing of the boat, where Finn was climbing over and grumbling.

"Oh look, lover boy's back," she called out. Finn glared at her.

"I haven't gotten to talk to Rachel in almost two months!" he said. "And why am I even here? I heard something about spotting the _Dalton_ moving in the other direction?"

"Any sighting is a dangerous one," Santana said with a shrug. "Your love life can wait. Go clean out the cannons."

Finn huffed and stomped over to the hold. Santana just shook her head. "He didn't get it in," Quinn said, looking triumphant. "He barely got to talk to Rachel for five minutes. She didn't even seem that into him, to be honest."

"Well, that's good, right?" Santana said, watching Quinn carefully.

"It's excellent," Quinn said. "I mean, you know," she blushed, "it's okay."

"Do you have a crush on me?" Santana asked suddenly.

"What? No!" Quinn looked terrified at the very thought. "Of course not!"

"Well you don't have to be so blunt about it," Santana said, annoyed. "Am I really that bad?" Quinn wasn't such a good catch herself, if it really came down to it. She was far too uptight and needy. At least Santana had game.

"No, you're not _bad_, I just...I could never...wait," Quinn said, narrowing her eyes. "Do _you_ have a crush on _me_?"

"Please, don't make me vomit," Santana said. "Brittany thought you liked me and she told me. I just thought she said something to you."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Well I didn't, and she's dead wrong. She was probably just being paranoid."

"What do you mean by paranoid?" Santana asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Quinn said, looking smug all of a sudden. "She probably just didn't want anyone else swooping in on her turf, that's all."

"Quinn, you better me more clear, or I swear I will slap you in the face."

"Don't play dumb," Quinn said. "You and her...I mean, there must be something there. Am I wrong? Why did you buy her in the first place?"

"You know why I did."

"You were gonna find her a job in Port Lima, weren't you?" Quinn continued. "Didn't do very well with that, did you? She's still here."

"I—she wanted to join the crew," Santana said.

"Point proven," Quinn replied smugly. Santana growled under her breath. Quinn was infuriating sometimes.

"It's a smart idea, she'll get food and a place to live far more easily than she will in port," Santana mumbled. "And I haven't thought about her that way," she couldn't help but add.

"Yeah right," Quinn said. "Everyone else has."

"What do you mean?" Santana asked, suddenly feeling annoyed.

"I mean that everyone else has noticed she's cute as frack."

"God dammit, Quinn, I hate it when you say that stupid word! Just say 'fuck'! Will it kill you?"

Quinn held up her hands in defense. "You don't need to get so mad about it! What's the matter, don't like people talking about Brittany's hotness behind her back? Or should we include you in the conversation next time?"

"I-just-you shut the hell up," Santana said. "I'm seriously considering leaving you here when we set sail."

Suddenly, there was a strangled cry from behind them. Santana whirled around to see Brittany hurrying out of the captain's cabin, her face as white as a sheet. "Santana!" she called out breathlessly. "You need to come here right now."

Santana ran across the deck as fast as she could, aware that some of the crew was following her. Brittany led the way into Santana's cabin, where she stopped short. Santana gasped. On the floor next to her bed, with his hands tied together and a gag stuffed in his mouth, was Kurt.

"What the hell?" Quinn exclaimed from behind her as Santana bent down to rip the fabric out of Kurt's mouth. Kurt coughed violently.

"They were here!" he yelled as soon as he caught his breath.

"What? Who was here?" Santana demanded.

"The _Dalton _crew!" Kurt cried. Quinn pushed past Santana and leaned down to untie the ropes that were binding Kurt's hands. The rest of the crew gathered in the doorway, watching. Santana turned to them.

"Search the ship right now!" she said. "Look for anything missing, anything broken, anyone left behind. I want every corner searched!" Her heart was pounding and there was fear in her voice. The rest of the crew left without a word. Only Quinn remained behind, still working on the knots. She tugged hard on the ropes and broke them. Kurt freed his hands and sat up, looking at Santana wildly. "What did they do?" she asked worriedly.

"They knocked me over and tied me up," Kurt said in a shaky voice. "There were two of them. They stuffed a gag in my mouth and told me they would never see me again." He shuddered. "I thought they were going to kill me."

"It's okay," Quinn said soothingly as she helped him to his feet. "It's alright, they were obviously after something else. What did they take? Anything?"

Kurt shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "Blaine and I were supposed to be on watch but we didn't see them until they were on the deck. Then they hit me over the head and dragged me in here and..." He stopped speaking suddenly as all the color drained from his face.

"What's wrong?" Santana asked.

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed. "Where is Blaine?"

Quinn and Santana exchanged worried glances. "He's not outside," Quinn said.

"Could he have left the ship?" Santana asked, her heart pounding as a feeling of dread crept over her. Quinn shook her head, her eyes reflecting Santana's worry.

"He would have let Kurt out first," she said. Kurt leapt to his feet and ran out of the cabin. Santana and Quinn exchanged one more frightened look before following him.

"Blaine!" he was shouting, running across the deck. "Blaine!" He ran up to the quarter deck and leaned far over the railing, looking at the _Dalton _as it retreated across the sea. "THEY TOOK BLAINE!" he screamed.

"We've gotta go after them," Santana said, hurrying towards the ropes that were anchoring them to the dock. "Tell the crew we're leaving immediately. I want all hands on deck. If we leave now, we can catch them by nightfall."

"Yes Captain," Quinn said. A gust of wind blew over them, taking Quinn's hat right off her head. "Shit," she said, chasing it down the deck. Santana ran to the railing and began to untie the knots that held them to the deck. All she could think of was Blaine, tied up, possibly hurt, a prisoner of the _H.M.S. Dalton_. It was all she could do to keep herself from getting sick.

"This is all my fault," Kurt was moaning. "All my fault, if we had just watched more carefully..."

"Shut up!" Santana said, unable to help herself. The situation was scary enough without Kurt making noise. "I need a status report right now. Quinn!" She looked over at Quinn, who was still chasing her hat across the deck "Damn wind. Puck!"

Puck came out of the hatch. "Nothing appears to be out of place," he said quickly. "It doesn't even look like they went down there, everything is-"

"They took Blaine!" Santana interrupted. "We need to follow them as soon as possible, you need to tell everyone..." She stopped talking and took a deep, gasping breath. "We need to untie from the dock."

"Um, Santana?" came a voice from behind her. Santana turned around to see Tina, standing on the deck and chewing on her lip. "Um, you might not wanna undo those knots quite yet."

"Why not?" Santana asked. Tina said nothing and pointed upwards. As Santana looked up, another gust of wind blew, unfurling their middle sail. Her eyes widened in shock.

Their largest sail was completely shredded.

"I think we might need those extra sails after all," Tina said softly.

Santana swallowed hard and nodded. "Change of plans!" she called out. "We're spending the night in Port Lima."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Purple Sails**

They spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for a fight with the _Dalton_. Puck and Finn went out to buy cannonballs. Mercedes and Kurt went to buy the material for the new sail. Santana and Tina got ready to climb up and take down the sail that was damaged. As Santana placed her foot on the rigging, Brittany approached her. "Can I go up?" she asked.

Santana looked at her dubiously. "Your hand," she began.

"I can do it," Brittany said. "I'll climb with one hand. I won't fall." She looked so uncharacteristically confident that Santana just shrugged.

"Alright," she said. "You can come up."

She and Brittany climbed up the rigging until they were level with the sail. Santana grabbed a fistful of it and pulled it towards her. "It looks like they knifed it," Brittany said.

"Those bastards," Santana replied, looking at the damaged sail. "We're gonna have to take this down and replace it, it'll take hours."

"But we _can_ replace it, though," Brittany said.

Santana looked at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if they wanted to hurt us, they could have messed up our sail in the middle of the ocean and then we wouldn't be able to go anywhere and we would starve to death," Brittany said matter-of-factly. "Actually, we wouldn't starve, we would die of thirst because that happens first, apparently. Did you know humans can go for a month without food? But anyway. What's the point of messing up our sail when we're right here in port and we can easily get a new one?"

"Because," Santana said, watching the _Dalton _with narrowed eyes as it moved farther and farther away. "Sebastian Smythe has something up his sleeve. He doesn't want to bring us down. He just doesn't want us to be able to follow him."

Brittany followed Santana's gaze. "Then he must be going somewhere really secret," she said quietly. "And he's taking Blaine with him. Why?"

"That," Santana said, "is what we have to find out." She looked over at Brittany. "Come on, let's untie this sail so we can take it down."

For the next thirty minutes, Santana and Brittany climbed across the rigging, untying the knots that held the broken sail in place. Santana was a little worried about Brittany's injury, but it soon became clear that Brittany was an expert at navigating across the ropes. She pulled herself across easily with one hand, and when she reached a knot, she looped her legs around the ropes to hold herself in place while she worked on undoing it. Tina stood in the crow's nest, holding one end of the sail so that it wouldn't flap in the wind and hinder their progress. By the time they had undone every knot, Mercedes and Kurt had returned with new sails. They were purple.

"Hummel, what the _hell_?" Quinn was yelling, so loudly that her voice carried all the way up to Brittany and Santana. "What are people going to think of us when we have that?"

"Why does it matter what other people think, we're just gonna fight them off anyway!" Kurt shot back. Santana watched them and chuckled to herself.

"They'll probably think we're crazy and they'll avoid us," Brittany said. "Then we'll sneak up on them and take their treasure, and they won't be expecting it."

"That's true," Santana said. "Smart thinking." Kurt, however, appeared to have chosen the sails for aesthetic reasons instead of tactical ones, and Santana could see that he was trying to patiently explain this to Quinn, to no avail. It was time to put a stop to this argument. "All hands!" she yelled down to everyone who was not off buying supplies. "Let's get an assembly line going and put this sail up!"

Once the sail had been lifted up, Santana and Brittany tied down each end so that it wouldn't fall. Tina held it once again to keep it from flapping, and they began to work inward, redoing the knots they had just untied. The sun got lower and lower in the sky, and Santana began to smell Finn's cooking wafting up to them from the galley. She and Brittany finally met in the middle as they reached the last two knots. Their shoulders bumped together as they tied.

"Have you always been a pirate?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Santana replied. "My parents were both pirates. I was born on a ship."

"Did you have brothers or sisters?"

Santana finished her knot and slipped her hands through two holes in the rigging, holding herself in place so that the ropes were supporting her weight. "No, none," Santana said. "I was pretty much a mistake, my parents didn't want children. Not that they didn't love me," she added. "But they didn't have time to raise children. They always wanted to live on the sea, anyway."

"It must have been nice to grow up on a ship," Brittany said.

"It was," Santana replied. "Those were the best times of my life." She looked sadly at the sunset, feeling Brittany's eyes on her. She could sense the unasked question on Brittany's lips. "My parents died. When I was thirteen."

"Oh," Brittany said. "I'm so sorry."

Santana swallowed and nodded. "I miss them a lot," she said.

"How did it happen?"

"Shipwreck," Santana said simply. "They were good sailors, but just...one day, they decided it would be fun to chance the Islas Peligrosas—danger, literally, is in the name. They thought that there might be some cool treasure island in the middle of it. I think they just wanted the challenge, though."

"But you survived," Brittany said.

Santana nodded. "There was huge storm while we were going through. We hit a rock. That's why they're called the Islas Peligrosas—there's like twenty little rock islands, and tons of rocks right under the surface of the water that you can't even see. The ship sprung a leak and we started to go down. My parents untied a lifeboat and me and some of the crew got on. They were going to get on with us when lightning hit the mast and it started to go down. My dad got hit by a big piece of it and my mom went back to help him. We couldn't afford to wait any longer so the rest of the crew that was with me started to row away. My mom was screaming at us to go, at me to get to safety."

Santana swallowed hard before continuing. "We were tossed around all night and I was completely soaked through and freezing. When it finally cleared up the next morning, all that was left of our ship was a piece of driftwood. Some people went back to look for wreckage. They made me stay in the lifeboat. And they came back...with no one."

"Do you think your parents got away?" Brittany asked.

Santana shook her head. "I think...they found bodies," she said quietly. "And my dad's first mate, David Martinez, told me that my parents would have wanted to go down with their ship."

Santana felt pressure on her arm unexpectedly and she looked down. Brittany had placed her bandaged hand hesitantly on Santana's forearm. It wasn't much contact, but coming from Brittany, Santana knew the gesture meant a lot. "You can stop if you want," Brittany said. "I know it's hard to talk about."

Santana shook her head. "I've never talked to anyone about it before, actually. It kind of helps."

"Then keep going," Brittany said. "What did you do after that?"

"We kept rowing for almost two days. We were in pretty bad shape. There were five of us in the boat, but eventually the other men got all tired from being dehydrated and couldn't row. So just me and David rowed for a while. And then a merchant ship saved us."

"Did you tell them you were pirates?"

"Nah," Santana said. "We just made up stories. David pretended to be my dad. We had them take us to the nearest port and then we got off and joined another pirate crew. We were with them for a while, but when I turned sixteen, I wanted to have my own life. So I left them at a port and went to a this little village, and that's where I met Quinn. The two of us heard that Port Lima was a good place to find a ship that would take us. We went there together and lived there for about a month until we found this guy who was trying to start a crew. It was Will Schuester, and this was his ship. The _McKinley_." She shrugged. "And now here I am."

Brittany smiled. "That's a nice ending to the story," she said. "I bet you always wanted to be the captain of your very own ship."

"I did," Santana said. "I mean, I always thought I'd be captain of my parents' ship, the _Lima Heights_. But the _McKinley _is faster, and anyway, it's nice to have my own legacy."

"I'm sure you'll be famous soon," Brittany said. "You'll probably be the most fearsome pirate in the world."

Santana laughed. "I've only been captain for a couple of days, and we've already had our sails torn up," she said. "I'm not sure this bodes well for the rest of my career."

"Well," Brittany said, "you saved me."

"That's true," Santana said, looking at Brittany with a sudden rush of fondness. "I did save you."

Several minutes of silence followed, as Brittany looked contentedly into the sunset. Santana watched the last rays of the sun hit Brittany's blond hair, causing it to sparkle. To hell with whatever she'd said to Quinn earlier—Brittany was totally cute. She was beautiful. The dinner bell rang, but Santana had half a mind to let it get cold and finish watching the sun go down. She would have suggested it if Brittany hadn't said, "Good! I'm hungry." And since it was the first time Brittany had appeared to be hungry in the time Santana had known her, she felt that there was no other option but to go to dinner.

When they climbed down to the galley, however, Santana was greeted by an unexpected visitor. Rachel Berry was standing by the food, holding a plate in her hand and chatting genially with Mercedes. Her dress was pink and frilly, and its cleanliness juxtaposed sickeningly with the rest of the crew's attire. When she saw Santana, she beamed. "Hello, Santana," she said. "Congratulations on your recent captaincy!"

"Thanks," Santana said somewhat coolly, following Brittany to take a plate. She had never much liked Rachel. "And to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, Finn invited me for dinner," Rachel said. "He told me that you were all eating onboard tonight so that you could prepare to leave quickly. I'm so sorry to hear about Blaine's kidnapping!" She seemed about as sorry as if she'd been told there was a chance of rain tomorrow. "It's really a pity. The _Dalton _men are such good customers to us."

"Yeah, well, they don't take too well to pirates, as you can imagine," Santana muttered. She moved away to get her food, not wanting to talk to Rachel any longer than necessary. Brittany was waiting for her at the other side of the galley.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"This girl that Finn likes," Santana said dismissively. "She's not really that much fun...Quinn!" Santana spotted Quinn, who was eating alone by the railing. "Get over here!"

Quinn headed over sullenly. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Your girl is here, what are you doing alone? Go talk to her! Finn is busy serving food right now, anyway."

"I don't know," Quinn muttered. "She just keeps talking to him, and to Mercedes, and she barely even looks at me. Oh, and she is also obsessed with stupid 'Captain Sebastian.'"

Santana raised her eyebrows. "What? The..."

"Captain of the _Dalton_, yeah," Quinn said. "I know. She doesn't seem to get that we're enemies. She keeps bringing up how cute he is, she has a stupid painting of him and everything. You know what the only thing she said to me today was?"

Quinn was getting progressively angrier as she spoke, and it was with some trepidation that Santana asked, "What?"

"She said, 'Oh Quinn, you should really just meet the first mate, Nick. I think the two of you would get along really well.' Like, _what_? Yeah, I'm sure we would have a grand old time, chatting and laughing while he drags me to the gallows!"

"She sounds like an idiot," Santana said. This appeared to be a mistake, however, because suddenly Quinn turned on Santana.

"She's not an idiot," she replied angrily. "She just doesn't get why pirates and Navy men shouldn't get along. And frankly, neither do I. We're all human!"

"God dammit, Quinn," Santana said. "This crush is making you impossible to deal with. Just go talk to her."

"I do not have a _crush_," Quinn spat. "And fine, I will go talk to her!" She stormed towards Rachel and Mercedes, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"What an irritating person," she muttered. "She and Rachel would be perfect for each other, they're both crazy."

"I want to see her picture of Captain Sebastian," Brittany said thoughtfully. "He must be really cute if someone did a painting of him."

Santana felt a sudden twinge of annoyance. "He's not that cute," she said. "He's just arrogant, he probably commissioned the painting and then left it with Rachel so that she and her horny friends could stare at it."

"Well, I still want to see it," Brittany said, popping a slice of pork into her mouth.

"I'm going to get some rum," Santana said, standing up. "Do you want some?"

Brittany shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks," she said.

They spent the better part of the next hour eating and drinking and talking happily amongst each other. Kurt looked slightly resentful, and Santana knew that he was thinking that they should be leaving as quickly as possible to get to Blaine. "Navy ships never travel far through the night," Santana assured him. "We're not losing any time."

"Except that every minute we're here is another minute that Blaine is held captive," Kurt muttered angrily.

"Twenty more minutes," Santana said. "And then I promise we'll set sail." She felt bad for not worrying more about Blaine, but she was feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. Rachel became less annoying as Santana had more to drink, and she turned out to be the life of the party. Everyone was eager to talk to her, simply because they didn't have any other friends who weren't in their crew. Even the most mundane story sounded interesting because, well, it was a story they hadn't heard before. It wasn't long, however, before she started talking about Sebastian again.

"We always get so excited when he comes to port, the girls love him so much," Rachel was gushing. "He _is _rather easy on the eyes, have you seen my picture?" She reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a rolled up parchment. Quinn suddenly appeared by Santana's side.

"She brought the picture _here_?" she asked incredulously. "What, she couldn't be away from it for one evening?"

"Quinn, relax," Santana said. "You're bringing the mood down." Rachel unfurled the picture and Puck held his candle close so that they could see it. They all leaned in. It was a pretty good likeness, from what Santana could remember, when she'd seen him at Rum Reef Island. The artist had painted a bust of Sebastian, his shoulders squared and his blue and red Navy blazer covering the bottom of his striped tie. The final touch was a large captain's hat upon his head. Santana smirked. "What a little prick," she began.

"Hey wait, I know him!" Brittany said from behind Santana. Santana turned around. The rest of the crew continued to look at the painting, not having heard Brittany's exclamation, but Quinn looked at her curiously.

"How would you know him?" she asked. Brittany looked at Santana.

"Remember when I told you I bet my key playing poker? This is the guy who won it from me. Him and his friend."

"Are you sure?" Santana asked. "It was a long time ago, wasn't it?" Quinn looked between the two of them in confusion.

"It was a couple years ago, yeah, but I definitely remember. He didn't have the hat but he was wearing that exact jacket and so was the other guy with him. They took the key from me and they were discussing what to do with it. One of the guys said that they should keep it and I remember he was the one," Brittany pointed at the picture of Sebastian, "who said, 'No, we should take this to Captain Anderson.'"

Santana froze. "Wait, Captain _who_?" Beside her, she could hear that Quinn had stopped breathing. The sounds of Rachel's chatter died away as Santana looked at Brittany with wide eyes.

"Captain Anderson," Brittany said. "Why? What's wrong?"

Santana looked at Quinn, who swallowed hard. "Do you think it's a coincidence?" Quinn asked. "It's not necessarily an uncommon name."

Santana shook her head. She remembered what Will Schuester had told her only two nights before. _They said they could always get in touch with their old friend... _It fit perfectly. "Santana, what's going on?" Brittany asked nervously.

Santana turned to Brittany and swallowed hard. "It was Blaine," she said, her heart sinking. "Blaine Anderson used to be the captain of the _Dalton_."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: The Traitor**

"This has 'trap' written all over it," Puck said firmly. "I don't think we should go anywhere."

They were all sitting in a circle around a lone candle, their merriment long forgotten. As soon as Santana had told them about Brittany's revelation, chaos had broken out. Each person seemed to have a different idea about what they should do.

"I just don't think Blaine would sell us out like that," Mercedes said. "I never thought he had it in him."

"Either way, a person is a person," Rachel said. "No matter what he's done in his past, he deserves to be saved."

"But maybe he doesn't even _need_ saving," Puck said hotly. "He could have gone with them willingly! Who knows? I mean, they're his friends, or at least, they used to be."

"Obviously they're not his friends, why do you think Blaine left them in the first place?" Rachel shot back.

"Look, Rachel, stay out of this," Santana said, rubbing her temples. She felt that, as captain, she should have some suggestion for what they should do next, but she was drawing a blank. "You're not even part of the crew," Santana continued. "You barely even knew Blaine."

Rachel looked like she wanted to say something, but there was too much truth in Santana's words to ignore, and she thankfully shut up. "One thing we haven't discussed yet," Quinn said, "is whether or not Blaine is dispensable. You know the Pirates' Code. Anyone who gets left behind stays behind."

"He's not dispensable, you twat!" Kurt said from outside the circle. It was the first time he'd spoken since Santana had told them what she knew. He had been standing by the galley in a state of shock, but now he stepped forward into the candlelight. "You guys, I don't think Blaine is in with them. Maybe they targeted him because they know him, but whatever is going on, he wants to be back here with us. I know it."

"No offense, Kurt, but you don't _know_ anything," Tina said. "I mean, you never even knew that Blaine was in the Royal Navy before. There could be any number of things you don't know."

"I know that he wouldn't betray us!" Kurt said angrily.

"Okay, hold on," Artie said. "Are we even sure that Blaine _was_ the captain? All we have is Brittany's memory of hearing Sebastian mention his name..."

"I know I remember it right," Brittany said. She looked nervous but her tone was firm. "I have a pretty good memory."

"It only matters what Santana thinks," Quinn said, looking towards her. "You're the captain. You make the call."

Santana looked around at all of them. She knew that whatever she said would end up making _someone _angry. "Blaine...didn't even want to go to Port Lima," she said slowly. "He tried to talk me out of it, he was worried about the _Dalton _catching up to us. If he had a plan to run off with them, he would have _wanted_ us to go there, right?"

"Maybe," Puck said. "Or maybe he just knew you would disagree with whatever he said and he was using reverse psychology."

"Come on, Puck," Kurt said. "Be reasonable."

"The fact remains that he knew something about the _Dalton _and didn't tell us," Quinn said. "There was a ship following us to every corner of the Caribbean for an entire year, and we had no idea why they were doing it or what they were capable of. And he used to be captain and he just, what, forgot to mention it?" Quinn shook her head. "That's a pretty big lie. I don't think we should trust him."

"He probably thought that if he told us, we wouldn't want him anymore," Finn said. Santana looked up in surprise. It was very unlike Finn to defend Blaine. "What? It makes sense."

"I suppose it does," Santana said.

"That doesn't make it right!" Quinn replied.

"True," Puck said. "Besides, he's smart. He might find a way out."

"You guys, please," Kurt said. "If it were one of you..." He looked at Santana pleadingly. "We have to try to rescue him. You know we do."

There was a long silence. Santana sighed, her body aching with exhaustion. She was suddenly acutely aware of how late it was. "I think we should all go to sleep and talk about this in the morning," she said. "Maybe it will give us some time to think over what the best plan of action is."

"This is a time sensitive thing!" Kurt said. "We can't take the chance, he might not be okay right now!"

"He's strong," Santana said. "He can handle it. And Puck has a point, they were his friends at some point, even if they aren't right now. He knows them."

She leaned forward and blew out the candle, a sign that the conversation was over. One by one, they all got up to leave. Santana saw Finn walk away with Rachel, talking to her quietly. Quinn eyed them suspiciously as she went downstairs.

Santana turned to Brittany. "You can stay in Blaine's cabin again," she said. "Since he's not here and all."

Brittany nodded. "Maybe I can try sleeping in the bunks...tomorrow night," she said.

"Whenever you feel comfortable with it," Santana said. "Seriously, though, you can have the cabin. It doesn't matter. _If_ Blaine ever comes back, I'll kick him out."

"No," Brittany said. "It-it wouldn't feel right. I want to be with the rest of the crew." She got to her feet and looked down at Santana. "Well, goodnight."

"Night," Santana replied. She waited a few more moments before dragging herself to her feet and heading slowly towards her cabin. Finn and Rachel were still talking by the railing, and Kurt was standing near the galley. He looked like he was cleaning up.

"Sleep well, Captain," he called out as she started to leave.

"Bye Kurt," Santana replied tiredly.

She went into the cabin and fell onto her mattress without even taking off her shoes. The day had definitely taken an unexpected turn. It was weird to think that just that morning, she'd been so happy, thinking about how Brittany was going to join their crew. They were going to spend a wonderful few days in Port Lima and then sail off to somewhere exotic and fun. It was summer, and the water would be warm and the weather would be nice. They could still have all of that, of course. But now they had the _Dalton _to deal with, too.

After what felt like hours, Santana finally gave up on falling asleep and walked out of her cabin. Nobody was expected to be on watch, since they were docked and the day wasn't part of the normal watch schedule. Finn and Rachel were no longer on deck, but someone was standing where the couple used to be, fussing with something on the railing. The person moved farther down the deck and made the same movements there. Santana closed her door quietly and squinted into the darkness. The figure stepped into a ray of moonlight and Santana saw who it was. Kurt.

"Orchestrating an escape?" Santana called out, causing Kurt to jump. He turned around and looked at Santana fearfully. Santana walked over to the railing, where the ropes that had tied them to the dock were now neatly coiled around the wood. "Interesting," she said.

"Santana, please," Kurt began.

Santana looked around. "You pulled in the anchor," she noted. "And adjusted the sails to catch the wind. That's nice, I didn't know you knew how to do that."

"I watch you guys while you work," Kurt said.

"Well," Santana replied. "We better tie all of this stuff back up. Come on, help me out and we can both go to bed."

"No," Kurt said, shaking his head. "Please. I have to." He looked like he was about to cry. "I...I love him. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"I don't," Santana said shortly.

"You've never...been in love?" Kurt asked.

"No."

Kurt looked momentarily taken aback, but then his face stiffened with resolve. "Well, I have," he said. "I am. And I have to save him, I would do anything. I don't care if he's in cahoots with Sebastian. He never once hurt any of us and I trust that he knows what he's doing." Kurt swallowed hard, tears welling in his eyes. "He loves me, too."

Santana didn't talk for a long time. She was trying to decide whether or not she was moved by Kurt's speech. Sure, he was in love, just like Mike and Tina and all those other people on the ship that annoyed her so much—but she was kidding herself if she said that she never longed for what they had. Santana knew the way that Blaine looked at Kurt, and believed that the feeling really was mutual. "Did you think you could man the ship by yourself, all night?" Santana asked finally. "Wouldn't we notice that we'd started to move? I would, at least."

Kurt shrugged. "Maybe you would think it was a wave."

"Maybe I do think it's a wave," Santana said.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked slowly.

"I mean that, maybe I never walked out here. I'll go back to my cabin, having not noticed you moving around in the dark, and when I wake up tomorrow morning we'll be on the move and I'll be forced to follow the _Dalton_."

Kurt's face slowly split into a wide grin. He jumped towards Santana and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Then he hurriedly backed away. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate," he said. "Just...thank you."

Santana shrugged. "Whatever," she replied. "You know that we have no idea which way the _Dalton _went, right? How are you planning to find them?"

"Anything is better than staying here," Kurt said.

"Depends. I'd kinda like to stay in Port Lima for a while," she said in annoyance. Then she felt bad. It wasn't Kurt's fault that Blaine had been kidnapped. "I know he wouldn't do anything bad to _you_, at least," Santana said. "So...let's just try to get him back in one piece, okay?"

Kurt nodded vigorously. "Yes," he said. "Definitely."

Santana reached into the pocket of her coat. "Here's my compass," she said. "Just in case. If anyone asks, you took it from my cabin while I was sleeping."

"I _have _always been sneaky," Kurt said.

"Ha ha," Santana replied. "Goodnight, Kurt. Don't crash my ship into a reef."

"Goodnight, Santana," Kurt replied. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of her."

Santana turned around and went back into her cabin, this time undressing before she got into bed. It wasn't long before she felt the familiar rocking of the sea beneath her, and she smiled knowing that Kurt had gotten them underway. There was still the problem of Blaine and his unknown past, but they could work through it in the morning—right now, all that mattered was that they were getting somewhere.

* * *

The next morning, Santana awoke to the sound of someone pounding on her cabin door. "Come on, Santana, wake up!" Quinn yelled from outside. "It's pretty urgent. You'll know when you get out here, hurry up."

Santana groaned and pulled herself out of bed. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and prepared herself to face the rest of the crew. By the sound of it, Kurt had succeeded in his mission, and nobody was particularly happy about it. Santana pulled open the door and found herself staring straight into Quinn's angry face. "Good morning," Santana snapped.

"Good morning to you too, sweetheart," Quinn said in a sugary voice. "Notice anything?"

Santana looked around. The wind had really been on their side last night. They'd made good time. "Well, look at that. We're sailing."

"Yes!" Quinn said, sounding furious again. "Yes we are. That brat Hummel cut us loose during the night. Puck already kicked him off the helm. Do you want us to turn around?"

Santana shrugged. "We have all the supplies we need. Might as well keep going."

"Yes, but we don't know _where_ we're going," Quinn said in exasperation.

"We can figure that out today," Santana said.

"Why aren't you flipping out about this?" Quinn demanded. "You should be mad!"

"I am mad!" Santana said. "And Kurt will be punished accordingly. Just let me put my clothes on, okay?"

Quinn looked down at Santana's shirt clad torso and bare legs. "Oh," she said apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't notice."

"Well," Santana said with a smirk, "I don't blame you. Clearly, your feelings for Rachel are blinding you to all other sexy human forms."

"I-what-sexy human forms, really?" Quinn glared at Santana. "We're having a minor problem with our ship right now, this is not the time for your stupid teasing!"

"Alright," Santana said, backing into her cabin. "Just give me a minute." She closed the door and dressed quickly, trying to think of some punishment she could inflict on Kurt. She decided to have him clean the heads, and stepped outside to tell him so, but she was distracted by another source of commotion on the deck. "Oh no," she said as Rachel appeared out of the hull. "No no no."

"Santana!" Rachel cried, hurrying towards her. Her dress was askew and her hair was ruffled. She looked furious.

"Quinn!" Santana called out as Rachel came closer. "Get over here. We have a _huge _problem."

"What?" Quinn appeared by Santana's side, a scowl on her face. "I know, I already saw her. But this is Finn's fault, not mine."

Rachel stepped right up to Santana, too close for comfort. "You're the captain," she said firmly. "You need to get me out of here."

"Some respect would be nice," Santana said coldly. "And may I ask why you are demanding I get you off my ship, when I have no idea why you're here in the first place? You don't work for me."

"No, I don't," Rachel said, speaking in a tone of forced calm. "And I never intended to be on your ship at all last night. And if _someone_," she turned and glared at Finn, who was standing uncomfortably by the hole in the deck, "had told me that you were planning to leave today, I most certainly would not have been aboard. But now that you _have _left, I need you to turn around and take me back."

"I didn't know we were leaving," Finn protested, but Rachel silenced him with a glare.

"Sorry," Santana said. "But I can't turn around." She turned around and started to walk towards the rail. Rachel followed close behind her.

"What? Where are you going?" she asked in a shrill voice. "No—you have to take me back!"

Santana whirled around, annoyed. "You think I want you here? Quite frankly, I find the sound of your voice incredibly irritating. But we're trying to save a crewmember and deal with an enemy ship, so I'm sorry if I can't go carting you around the ocean right now."

"Santana, please!" Rachel said. "I can't stay here. I get seasick."

"Throw up overboard and keep it to yourself." Santana had to turn around again to hide her smile. She really wasn't pleased that Rachel was going to be joining them, but at least Rachel was even more inconvenienced than she was.

Santana reached the rail and leaned over it to look at their progress. They were almost an entire day's journey from Port Lima, and going back would mean sailing against the wind. "Please," Rachel begged. "Give me a row boat and I'll row myself back."

"And how will we get our boat back?" Santana asked, still gazing out across the water. "It's the only one we have."

"Get someone to row me home and then come back," Rachel suggested.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Rachel, this is the fastest ship in the Caribbean. We could be halfway to our destination by the time you get to Port Lima, how do you expect anyone to catch up to us in a rowboat?"

"Ugh!" Rachel stomped her foot on the deck in frustration. Santana looked at her with disdain. _This _was the girl who had stolen the hearts of at least two people on her crew? If this was the best they could find, they really needed to get out more.

"Look," Santana said. "It's not my fault that you got yourself into this situation. Bad things tend to happen when you're sleeping with a pirate."

Rachel's face turned even redder than before. "I wasn't sleeping with anyone!" she protested. "Finn and I went downstairs to talk, and then I fell asleep! It was completely innocent."

"Alright, whatever," Santana said.

"You don't believe me!"

"I honestly just don't care," Santana replied. "And actually, you're really bothering me. I have a first mate to rescue now, and if you don't mind, I'd prefer to be left alone!"

"Fine," Rachel replied coolly. She turned around and began to walk back towards the stairs, muttering, "We didn't even kiss. _Sleep _with him? What kind of girl does she think I am?" She glared harshly at Santana before stomping away. Santana heard her start to yell at Finn.

"Hey, dough face!" came Quinn's shout from behind her. "Stop talking to your girlfriend and make us some breakfast." Santana turned around to catch Quinn's eye, and Quinn winked. Finn hurried towards the galley, an angry Rachel close on his heels.

"Not bad, Fabray," Santana said. "Maybe you'll actually get the balls to take over this ship when I'm gone."

Quinn scoffed. "Like you'll ever die," she said. "You'll probably come back and captain this ship as a ghost."

"Yeah, I don't doubt it," Santana said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brittany approaching. "Bye Quinn."

"What? I'm wasn't going anywhere," Quinn said.

"Yes you are," Santana replied. She gave Quinn a pointed look and Quinn rolled her eyes and walked away, just as Brittany came up to Santana's side. "Hey. How did you sleep?"

"I slept well," Brittany said. The two of them leaned with their backs against the railing, watching the crew milling about the deck.

"What's up?" Santana asked with a smile.

"Not much," Brittany replied. "I was just thinking last night."

"About what?"

"The key," Brittany said. "Maybe they really did give it to Blaine, and maybe when he ran away, he never gave it back."

"But Brittany, I thought you said that key was basically worthless," she replied. "I mean, they got it three years ago and as far as we know they haven't used it for anything. And neither has Blaine. If he had something that was going to help us..." Santana trailed off. _Would _Blaine have handed it over? She wasn't sure.

"Well, maybe they figured out what it opens but it was too late, and Blaine was already with you guys," Brittany suggested.

Santana shrugged. "It's possible," she said. Then she stood up straight as a thought suddenly occurred to her. "When they kidnapped our captain last time, Schuester said they searched him and that they seemed to be looking for something. But then they concluded that he didn't have what they were looking for, so they set him free. We all thought it was strange."

"You think..." Brittany began slowly, her face screwed up in concentration, "that they were looking for they key?"

"Probably," Santana said. "No, listen." She lowered her voice in excitement and began to talk very quickly. "They probably thought that Blaine gave it to Schue when he started working for him—after all, it's what they did, handing it over to their captain—so when they found out which ship Blaine was working for, they followed us until they found our captain and kidnapped him. Only Schue didn't have it—I mean, Blaine is a pirate now, we don't follow the same rules—and so they set their sights on Blaine. But then they left us alone for several months..."

"Because they were finding the thing that the key opens!" Brittany exclaimed.

Santana nodded. "I think so," she said. "I really think so."

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Well," Santana said, relieved to finally have some kind of plan, "instead of following the _Dalton _blindly across the sea—we don't even know which way they went, to be honest—we'll have to find the thing they're looking for. Once we know its location, we can go there and meet the _Dalton_ and rescue Blaine. If he needs rescuing," she added, unable to completely shake the idea that Blaine was a traitor now that she knew he'd had Brittany's key.

"That's great!" Brittany said excitedly. But then she frowned. "There's only one problem, we don't even know what they're looking for. How will we find something when we don't know what it is?"

But Santana just smiled. "Don't worry," she said. "I think I know someone who can help."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Salmon Shack**

For the second time in the last twelve hours, Santana found herself in the middle of a very heated crew meeting. Kurt would not shut up about how they needed to keep trying to follow the _Dalton_, and his protests were drowning out any semblance of reasonable conversation. "Hummel!" Santana finally shouted. "You're not supposed to be here, you broke the rules and risked the well-being of our ship. Go clean the heads."

"B-but," Kurt spluttered, looking at Santana angrily. "But you said—you let me-"

"Keep talking and you'll be cleaning the entire ship. For a week!" She glared until Kurt had no choice but to back down. She knew it wasn't fair—she _had _implied that he wouldn't be punished—but now he was just getting on her nerves.

"Fine," he said, storming off. "I hope all of you get kidnapped and then I'll make sure we do _nothing_ about it!" He disappeared into the hull and Santana sighed, turning back to the rest of her crew.

"Thank God," she muttered. "Now. We need to-"

"No," Quinn interrupted. "We're not going to see her."

"Quinn," Santana said in exasperation. "We have to. If anyone knows about treasure, it's her."

"Absolutely not!" Quinn said. "She's an evil woman and I have no desire to revisit her, we'll be lucky to get out alive. No, no, no."

"Well then what do you suggest?" Santana demanded in frustration.

"I'm still all for leaving Blaine behind..." Quinn began.

"We're not doing that," Mercedes said. "It's not right."

"Well then we're not going to see _her_, either," Quinn said. She stormed out of the group. Santana groaned, really wanting to hit someone.

"Real mature, Fabray!" she shouted.

"I'll go talk to her," Rachel said, following Quinn towards the railing.

"I'm sorry," Brittany said quietly from Santana's side, "but who is this person we need to see and why does Quinn hate her so much?"

Sam cleared his throat. "I think we'd all like to know that."

"You can ask _Quinn_, since she's the only one who knows why she's being so unreasonable," Santana hissed. Everyone was still looking at her curiously, so she said, "Fine. It's Sue Sylvester. Quinn's old...boss."

"Boss?" Mike asked.

Santana sighed. "Quinn!" she called out. "I'm going to tell them your story, unless you come over here and agree to see her right now!"

"I'm staying right here!" Quinn shouted back. "Whatever you wanna do, get it done by yourself!"

"Whatever," Santana said, turning back to her crew. "So Quinn used to be a dancer. Not, like, the theater kind. She danced for men. Pirates. You know."

"I love those dancers," Puck said. "So damn hot."

"It's despicable," Mercedes shot back. "Making girls prance around in little to no clothing...what is the point of that? I don't see any _men _volunteering for that job."

"We don't need to get into some kind of morality debate, that's not really the point," Santana snapped. "Sue Sylvester was in charge of all the girls who used to dance at this one bar, the Salmon Shack. Quinn used to work for her." Santana scoffed. "I honestly don't even know what the problem is."

"She was mistreated there, that was the problem," Finn said. "She said that Sue used to work them way too hard and force them to stop eating for days so they could stay fit. It's no surprise she hated it."

"Well, I don't think it warrants quite this much whining," Santana said, glancing back over towards Quinn. She appeared to be calming down slightly, which was undoubtedly in part because Rachel was stroking her arm.

"So why do we have to see Sue?" Brittany asked. "I'm still confused."

"Because Sue knows everything there is to know about pirate treasure," Santana said. "I met Quinn at the Salmon Shack, that's when we decided to go to Port Lima together. And I went inside Sue's office. She has books and maps and she pretty much devotes her life to learning about all the myths and legends. When she's not making disgusting weight-loss drinks, I mean."

"It's no use, Santana!" Quinn called out suddenly. "If she really knew about all that stuff, she would have gone out and found it herself instead of living at the Salmon Shack."

"We might as well ask," Puck suggested. "It's better than sailing blindly around the Caribbean, following some guy who we're not even sure is really on our side."

"That's what I'm _saying_," Santana said. She looked over at Quinn and Rachel. Rachel was murmuring something quietly and Quinn seemed to be listening, albeit with a very irritated look on her face. So whipped.

"Well, let's do it, then," Mercedes said. "Who cares what Quinn thinks, majority rules. She doesn't even have to get off the ship if she doesn't want to."

"Agreed," Puck said. He looked around at the rest of the crew. "Any objections?" Santana looked at them also, daring them to say something. But nobody did.

"Alright," she said. "Let's chart a course."

Despite Mercedes's declaration that Quinn's opinion didn't matter, Santana _did _need her to help with the navigation. The last time she'd been to Cheerio Island, the home of the Salmon Shack, she'd pretty much stumbled upon it by accident, and she had no idea how to find it on a map. After some coaxing, Rachel was able to drag Quinn into Santana's cabin, where she angrily sat down in the desk chair. Santana unfurled the map and held it out.

"Alright, show me where we're going," she said.

"I don't want to."

"Quinn. You sound like a five year old. Do it or I swear to God I will throw you into the brig."

"Santana, do you really think threats are the best way to manage this situation?" Rachel asked. "Perhaps reasonable negotiating would be a more effective method."

Santana sighed. "Be my fucking guest."

"Quinn, honey," Rachel said. "Please show us. I know you don't want to go back there, but it'll really help everyone out."

"It's not just that I don't want to see her," Quinn grumbled. "It's that this whole trip is a total waste of time."

"But we're getting Blaine back!" Rachel said. "Come on, he's your crewmate. Don't you miss him?"

"Not really."

"Quinnie." Rachel stood behind Quinn in the chair and reached down, tangling her fingers in Quinn's short hair and massaging her scalp. "I know I'm not really part of the crew but I would hate to participate in any decision you made that resulted in the loss of Blaine's life. I think that if there's anything we can do to help him, we ought to do it. Even if its only so we can sleep well at night. Don't you agree?"

Santana watched the internal struggle on Quinn's face, feeling smug. She knew Quinn wasn't going to be happy about this, but with Rachel touching her like that, it was only a matter of time before she gave in. "Fine," Quinn spat suddenly. She jabbed her finger onto the map. "There's the damn island. It's only a few days away."

"About time," Santana said in exasperation, reaching for her compass. She froze, however, as Rachel surprised both of them by leaning down and placing a light kiss on Quinn's cheek.

"Thank you honey, that was very brave," she said.

"I-what...Santana, I'm still mad about this!" Quinn spluttered, her face bright pink. Santana just smirked and shook her head.

"Get out of my chair," she said. "I have a course to chart."

"Santana..." Quinn began dangerously.

"Come on," Rachel said. "Let's go outside with the rest of the crew." She took a dumbstruck Quinn by the hand and led her to the door. Santana just sat down and looked at the map, rolling her eyes.

* * *

By the time evening came around, they were pointed in a new direction and well underway. The mood on the ship seemed to have lightened considerably now that they had a plan, and Kurt was mostly forgiven for his traitorous act during the night. Kurt, however, had not yet forgiven _them _for refusing to follow Blaine_,_ and Mercedes and Sam had been sent down to the bunks to try and calm him. Everyone else was hanging out on the deck, relaxing after eating dinner. Brittany was with them. In the confusion of the morning activities, nobody had had much time to notice the fact that Brittany had joined their crew, but now that they had, Santana was nervous. Would they like her as much as Santana did?

She hoped not. She already liked Brittany way more than she should.

She wandered over to where everyone was sitting. Brittany was on a box between Artie and Tina, and Rachel, Finn, and Quinn were gathered around them. They all seemed to be listening to something that Brittany said, and as Santana drew closer, everyone broke out in laughter.

"Hey Santana," Brittany said. Santana did a double take. She was pretty sure this was the first time Brittany had said her name. "I'm going to sleep in the bunks tonight," she continued. "With all these guys."

"Are you sure?" Santana asked. "There's no rush, you know."

"I mean, technically _I _should get Blaine's cabin..." Quinn muttered, before Santana silenced her with a look.

"I'm sure," Brittany said. "I like these people. They're nice to me. Did you know that Artie's legs got bitten off by Puck?"

"Puck?" Santana asked.

"Because he's a sex shark!"

"So can I move in to Blaine's?" Quinn asked. "I mean, until we get him back, if we ever do, which could take ages, anyway."

"I—sure, do whatever you want," Santana said, still looking at Brittany. She looked way more comfortable with everyone than she had before. Maybe being in the bunks would be good for her.

"The bunks will be tight," Artie said. "We have lots of fun. Do you like ghost stories?"

"I love them!" Brittany replied.

"Do you know any?" Finn asked, leaning in. "We always tell the same ones and it gets pretty old."

"I know a bunch," Brittany replied. "But they're really scary. Are you sure you want to hear them?"

"Tell them now!" Finn said. Brittany shook her head.

"Sorry, can't," she said. "I can only tell them late at night, when it's dark and quiet. Otherwise it won't be scary enough."

"Well, _I _certainly won't be listening to any ghost stories," Rachel said. "So I hope you keep your voice down. I'd hate to suffer from nightmares that keep me from sleeping properly. People need sleep more than they need food, you know."

"Rachel, don't be a party pooper," Artie said.

Brittany pouted adorably. "Yeah Rachel," she said.

"I don't like ghost stories either," Quinn said suddenly. "They're silly and unrealistic. I like stories that are real."

"Thank you, Quinn! I feel the same way," Rachel replied. Santana rolled her eyes. Quinn had never complained about ghost stories before.

"Hey Brittany, can you tell us about the cats?" Tina asked. "I've always wanted to see a cat."

"Cats are the best," Brittany said. "I had five."

"Five cats?" Finn asked, his eyes comically wide. "Did—did you eat them?"

Rachel and Quinn laughed as Brittany said, "No, of course not, silly. They were my pets. I played with them."

Santana had the sudden feeling that she was intruding on some sort of crew-only conversation. That was the downside of being the captain. As first mate, she'd been given an occasional pass to hang out with the underlings, but now that she was in charge, everyone seemed just a little uncomfortable when she was around. It was as though they were worried that she was suddenly going to make them do work and put a stop to all of their relaxation. She began to edge away as Brittany continued speaking, planning on going up to the quarter deck to have a cigar. As she started to walk away, she heard Brittany's story stop.

"I'll tell you guys more later, I'll be right back," Brittany said. Santana heard footsteps behind her, and a moment later, Brittany had caught up. "Hi," she said. "Where are you going?"

"Just...up," Santana said. She reached the stairs of the quarter deck.

"Want some company?" Brittany asked.

Santana smiled. "Sure."

They went up to the railing and Santana rested her elbows on the wood, watching the stars come out. Brittany copied her stance. The cigar was still in her pocket, but she suddenly didn't feel like she needed it.

"You looked like you were getting along with the crew pretty well," Santana said.

Brittany nodded. "They're great. I like them a lot."

"I'm glad," Santana replied. "They seem like they really like you too." She paused and then said somewhat bashfully, "I'm glad you decided to join our crew."

"I am too," Brittany said.

Silence came over them and Santana realized that they were standing closer than they'd ever been before. She could practically feel the warmth radiating off of Brittany's shoulder, and she suddenly felt a trace of the inappropriate thoughts she'd been having recently. She tried to distract herself. There was a slight breeze, which was nice; it would definitely help them get to Sue faster, especially if it blew all night. The rocking movements of the boat would be perfect to help her sleep. Finn was making rum cake for dessert and it was going to be delicious. Brittany's face was so close to hers that if they both turned towards each other, they would pretty much be touching in all the wrong places.

Santana wasn't sure how her mind had gotten back to Brittany, but she knew that there was no going back, especially when Brittany slid her hand a little farther down the railing so that the outside of their pinkies were touching. "Santana..." she said quietly—and there it was, her name again, sounding so much prettier when it came from Brittany's lips. Santana felt Brittany's eyes on her. "Thank you so much."

Santana took a deep breath and turned her head. Her face was an inch away from Brittany's, her eyes level with the other girl's lips. "You don't have to thank me," she said quietly. "I..." She tilted her head upward and looked right into Brittany's eyes. Without knowing what she was doing, she started to lean in.

Her lips met with air at the same time that she heard a heavy footstep on the deck. Her eyes shot open and she saw that Brittany had taken a large step back. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Brittany asked nervously.

"What?" Santana replied, dumbstruck. Her mind was reeling. They'd been a second away from kissing. What the fuck had happened?

"You were saying something," Brittany continued. "You started to talk and then you...lost your train of thought or something." She looked like she wanted to climb right over to the railing and jump off, and Santana couldn't blame her. This whole situation had just turned out-of-hand awkward.

"Uh, I don't remember. I have to go," Santana said quickly, turning around. "I'll catch you in the morning." She headed for the stairs, breathing hard. Why the hell had she done that? She really needed to get these Brittany-related thoughts out of her head.

"Santana, wait," Brittany said when Santana had taken several big steps. Santana groaned and turned around. Brittany's face was flushed and she looked like she was about to cry. "Don't leave. I'm really sorry."

Santana shook her head. "No, I am," she said. "That was inappropriate." She continued to back away slowly. "I really need to get back to my cabin."

"It wasn't inappropriate," Brittany said, still shaking her head. "I...it was fine..."

"You don't need to lie to me," Santana said shortly. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Santana, I like you," Brittany blurted out.

Santana froze. _Wait, for real?_

"I like you a lot and I just...I'm scared." She reached down and began nervously tugging at the bandages on her injured hand. Santana watched as realization began to dawn on her.

"You like me?" she asked, her heart pounding. "Really?"

Brittany nodded. "Really. I like you a lot. I just don't know if I can do the...I don't know...the kissing and stuff right now. Maybe later."

"You don't like touching," Santana stated. God, she had been so stupid! Here was a girl that Santana had just rescued from being abused not a week ago, and she had been hoping to get a little tongue action? Yeah, not happening. "I'm so sorry, Brittany, I was being insensitive. Of course we don't have to kiss."

Brittany blushed harder. "I want to...you know...later," she said. "But I mean, I'll understand if you don't want to wait. I know it's a lot to ask."

Santana couldn't help but smile. Brittany was right. It was a lot to ask. But she was so damn cute, Santana didn't think she could be attracted to anyone else right now if she tried. "Later sounds good," she assured Brittany.

Brittany grinned adorably. "Really?"

"Really."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Inappropriate Touching**

"I'm sorry about last night."

Santana looked up from her porridge to see Brittany standing over her, holding a bowl in her hand and chewing on her lip. Santana smiled. "It's seriously okay," she promised. "I should be the one apologizing."

"Can I sit with you?" Brittany asked.

"Of course." Santana moved aside on the box she was sitting on so that Brittany could join her. Her heart was doing embarrassing little flips and she tried not to stare too hard as Brittany began spooning her breakfast into her mouth. She didn't want to scare her away already.

"I get this, like, weird tight feeling in my chest," Brittany said after a minute. "When people get close."

"You do?"

Brittany nodded. "It was like how I first felt when I came on the _McKinley_, whenever I saw people around. I got scared."

"You seem to be okay with the crew now, though," Santana said. "How was it sleeping in the bunks with everyone?"

"It was fine," Brittany said quickly. "I feel safe here. And, like, I feel really safe with you. But…I just don't know why I start to get so freaked out when you come near me. It's so frustrating." She frowned. "It's like my brains are fighting with each other. I really wish they'd just be friends."

Santana smiled. "You have more than one brain?"

"It feels like I do."

"Okay well…maybe we should work together to help you with this problem," Santana said. "I mean, you've made so much progress since you got here. I'm sure we can fix this, too."

"How, though?" Brittany asked, looking doubtful.

"We should start with baby steps," Santana suggested. "Maybe you need to start touching some of the crew members."

Brittany raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked. "But I'm only interested in you."

"No, not like that," Santana said, trying to ignore the thrill she'd felt at Brittany's words. God, she had such a big crush on this girl right now. "I mean, like, shaking hands, hi-fives, hugs, you know. Make contact in a friendly way. It would probably help you, especially since everyone here cares about you and wants to keep you safe."

"Won't they think that's weird?" Brittany asked uncertainly.

"No, they won't," Santana said. She knew they probably would, but she was also counting on the fact that their fear of her wrath would keep from saying anything. "If they do, they'll keep it to themselves," she added.

Brittany still looked hesitant. "Well...alright," she said. "I'll see if I can."

"Excellent," Santana said.

"Artie told me the _funniest _story last night," Brittany said suddenly. "Do you want to hear it?"

"Sure."

As they finished their breakfast, Brittany told Santana all about the time that Finn had fallen overboard while fishing. Santana had actually been there when it happened, but she nodded along as though she'd never heard the story before. Brittany had the most expressive face when she talked and it was all kinds of adorable. When she finished—"And then everyone had to pull him up in a huge net like a beached dolphin!"—Santana didn't even have to force a laugh.

"That's hilarious," she said. "Come on, let's wash our bowls."

They walked over to the wash bins and placed their bowls inside. "I can get those," Kurt said as they began to scrub out the remnants of porridge. "It's my job today, anyway."

"Thanks Kurt," Santana said.

"Thanks," Brittany echoed, reaching forward and putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder awkwardly. She glanced at Santana out of the corner of her eye before continuing. "That's really nice of you."

"Um, okay," Kurt said, looking slightly alarmed. "It's not a problem."

Brittany pulled away from Kurt and Santana gave her a nod. At least she was making some contact. They could work out the kinks later. They began to walk away as Kurt continued to stare at them in confusion. "Get to work, Hummel," Santana said, "those bowls aren't going to clean themselves."

"Was that, like, normal?" Brittany whispered as they started to walk away.

Santana shrugged. "Normal enough."

"Okay, good," Brittany said, sounding relieved.

"Was it scary?"

"No," she said happily. "Not really." She grinned at Santana. "I think I can do this."

"Great," Santana replied, patting Brittany on the arm. "I guess I should probably get to work."

"That reminds me, I'm not on the job schedule," Brittany said. "I don't know what I should be doing right now."

"Oh right," Santana said. "Hmm. Well, I think Blaine's still on the schedule. Why don't you take his place for everything?"

"Okay," Brittany replied happily.

"But if the first thing is, like, cleaning heads or something, you might want to wait until later," Santana added.

Brittany shrugged. "I'll do whatever. It's still not as bad as what I had to do before."

"Oh. Right," Santana said awkwardly. "Well, I guess I better…"

"Yeah, I'll go check the schedule," Brittany said. "See you later."

She went down the hatch and Santana made the rounds on the deck to make sure that everyone was doing their jobs. She peeled Tina out of the crow's nest and threatened to assign Kurt extra work if he didn't stop moping around—overall, it was a successful morning. The sky was clear and breezy, but as she leaned over the railing to enjoy it, Quinn came up to her. She looked angry. Big surprise.

"Santana, what is your charity case doing now?"

"Huh?" Santana looked over at Brittany. She was sitting across from Finn, with her hand resting somewhat inappropriately on Rachel's thigh. Rachel looked slightly uncomfortable, but she was also talking nonstop, and Santana had a feeling that Rachel wasn't going to stop whatever lame story she was telling to make Brittany get off of her. Quinn, however, looked like she wanted to go rip Brittany's arm off with her own bare hands. "Do you think you could chill for, like, ten minutes? Brittany doesn't like Rachel like that. She's just trying something."

"What sort of something?" Quinn asked, her eyes narrowed.

"You know, if you spent half as much time being charming as you do being angry and suspicious, you might have her by now," Santana said. "You're the only person in the history of the world that's ever lost any girl to Finn Hudson."

"I haven't lost anything!" Quinn said. "And fine, I'll go be _charming._" She set down her bottle of rum and marched over to where Rachel was sitting, looking furious. Santana saw Brittany look up in alarm.

"Hey Brittany!" Santana called out, wanting to keep her away from the hot mess that was Quinn's courtship. "Come here for a minute."

Brittany looked at Santana happily and stood, practically skipping across the deck. After checking that they weren't being watched, Santana reached her arms out and put them around Brittany's waist. "What are you doing?" Brittany asked, her smile faltering.

"Just hugging you," Santana said, pulling Brittany closer so that her head was close enough to go over the taller girl's shoulder. Brittany put her own arms loosely around Santana's neck and clutched at the fabric of her shirt. She was shaking, almost imperceptibly, but Santana could definitely feel it. She held on only a moment longer before letting go. "How are you?" she asked when she pulled away.

"Fine," Brittany replied. She looked more comfortable now that they were no longer touching. "Rachel is really boring."

Santana couldn't help but laugh. "No kidding. I don't know why Quinn is so fucking obsessed." She looked up at Brittany. "Sorry. Obsessed. Not fucking. Shit, I didn't mean to say it twice."

"It's okay," Brittany said. "I don't mind if you swear."

"I know you don't _mind_, I mean I just..." Santana felt weird all of a sudden. "I just, I don't know, you're so...I mean, I wanna be..."

"Relax," Brittany replied. "I think it's cute."

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Cute?"

"It's _you_," Brittany continued. "And you are cute. At least to me."

Santana blushed hard. If Quinn could hear this conversation right now...

"Thanks," she said. "You're cute, too."

"You're as red as a tomato," Brittany said. Then her eyes got big. "Oh my God, tomatoes! We need to make them for dinner tonight, they're about to go bad! I've gotta go tell Finn." She started to hurry away but then she came back. "Bye Santana." She squeezed Santana's arm with both of her hands in some sort of weird arm-hug that nevertheless made Santana feel lightheaded. She watched as Brittany hurried back across the deck. Then she turned around. Sam was sitting by the door to her cabin, smoking.

"Do I look red?" she asked him. "Like...a tomato?"

Sam cocked his head to the side. "A little. Why? You feeling sick?"

"In a sense," Santana grumbled. "I'm not _supposed _to turn red, dammit. That's only for people who are white and pale like...well, like you."

"I don't know," Sam replied. "Mercedes sometimes turns red. Mostly when we make out."

"'Kay thanks for that visual," Santana replied.

"Does it have something to do with you hugging Brittany just a few minutes ago?"

"Definitely not," Santana replied, turning, if possible, even redder. She had thought nobody was watching.

"It looked like she was hitting on you."

"Here's an idea," Santana began loudly. "Why don't you go over to the railing, stick your face into the ocean, and open that huge mouth of yours for a couple of hours? I bet you could catch enough fish to make dinner for twelve."

"Sorry," Sam said hastily. "I was kidding, I didn't see anything. And you look normal-colored, by the way."

"I don't like people who kid. Kidding is for kids, and we are adults here on the _McKinley_. Mmkay?"

"Yes Captain," Sam said. He quickly stubbed his cigar out on the step and stood up, undoubtedly trying to find some way to make himself look busy.

"My cabin needs sweeping, if you're bored."

Sam's shoulders fell in defeat. "Alright," he said. Santana was well aware that it was his break time, but if he was going to be cheeky, he would have to pay the price. He went below deck and returned shortly with a broom, frowning the entire time.

By the time lunch came around, Santana's cabin was spotless and Brittany and Finn had finished making their tomato soup. Finn had splashed some of the red liquid on his white shirt, and Brittany was smiling as she wiped it off with a damp cloth. Her other hand was resting on Finn's shoulder, and Santana pushed aside her jealousy long enough to appreciate that Brittany was taking her mission to heart. Santana spooned herself a bowl of soup and grabbed a slice of bread.

Brittany did not join Santana like she had at breakfast, which made Santana a little sad. She forced herself not to be upset, however—it was important that Brittany made friends with the rest of the crew—and when she was done eating, she walked over to where Brittany was sitting next to Mercedes and Sam. "Awesome soup," Santana said. "Good work."

"It was Finn's recipe," Brittany said modestly. "I just helped cut the tomatoes and stuff." She held up her bandaged hand, which was stained with tomato juice. "Do you think I could get another one of these?"

"Another bandage or another hand?" Santana asked teasingly.

Brittany smiled. "Whatever you have."

"Come on," Santana said. "We can go check right now."

Brittany said bye to Mercedes and they went over to the hull. Santana led the way to the cargo hold, where there was a small box for medical supplies. There wasn't too much inside, just some bandages and weird medicines that Santana didn't even understand. She picked up a roll of gauze and turned to Brittany, who was working on taking off the old one.

"Should I get Mike?" Santana asked.

"It isn't hard," Brittany said, "you just have to wrap it around my fingers." She sat down on a box and held out her hand. Santana blinked.

"You want me to do it?"

"I can't really do it myself, can I?" Brittany said. Her request was innocent enough, but there was a slightly mischievous look in her eyes, one that Santana did not entirely appreciate. She pulled up a box so that she could sit across from Brittany and gently placed her injured hand on her own thigh.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked as she began unwinding the gauze.

"Not as bad as before," Brittany said, wiggling her fingers experimentally. "I wonder how much longer I'll have to keep it on."

"You'll probably have it off in a few days, I'm sure," Santana said, lifting Brittany's hand slightly. She started at the base of her wrist and began to wrap the gauze around slowly. Brittany's hand was significantly less rough than it had been before, probably from lack of use. The skin was soft and pale, and Santana's spine tingled as the pads of her fingers brushed gently against Brittany's palm. She looked up and saw that Brittany was watching her.

"You can do it tighter," she said. "It doesn't hurt."

"Oh," Santana said. "Okay. Sorry."

"That's okay," Brittany said. "It's nice that you wanted to be gentle."

Santana blushed. "I just didn't want to hurt you," she mumbled.

"Can I ask you something?" Brittany said. Apparently, she was actually expecting an answer, because she didn't follow it up with a question. Santana looked up at her again.

"Sure."

"Why do you make fun of Quinn's crush so much? Do you not like Rachel?"

Brittany's question surprised her. "I don't know," she said. "I guess that's just how Quinn and I talk. And Rachel is a little annoying, if I'm being completely honest."

"Yeah, I can see that," Brittany said. "I don't know, though, I just think it's cute the way they act around each other."

"I think it's lame," Santana said before she could stop herself.

"Do you?"

"I mean…I guess. Kinda. I don't know." She lifted one hand from Brittany's and tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. "I just wouldn't want to act that way, is all."

"Have you never been into someone before?" Brittany asked. "Before me, I mean."

"Before you?" Santana blushed hard. "Who says I'm into you?"

Brittany just smiled. "I mean, you tried to kiss me…"

"Well, yeah," Santana said. "But I mean, that was like…it wasn't the same. I mean, I like you," she said quickly. "But not like…ugh." She shrugged apologetically. "I don't know what I'm saying."

"You're not really a romantic," Brittany said.

"I suppose," Santana replied. She really wasn't. Unless Brittany wanted her to be. Then, Santana thought, she could probably be the most romantic person ever. But just, you know, for fun.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Oh." Santana paused. "I mean, I guess I haven't been into someone, not seriously anyway."

"But do you want to be?" Brittany's eyelashes fluttered and Santana gulped.

"I wouldn't be opposed," she said quietly.

They lapsed into silence as Santana finished the bandage by squeezing the gauze around Brittany's injured fingers. "Thanks," Brittany said as Santana tucked the free end of the gauze under itself. Brittany lifted her hand and looked at it. "Now it doesn't look like a crime scene."

Santana chuckled. She allowed herself to think about the fact that she was currently sitting only a foot away from Brittany, in a dark room where they were completely alone. Their knees were practically touching and Santana forced herself not to close the space between them. "We should go up," she said. "I don't want anyone to think I'm skipping work."

"Yeah," Brittany replied. She hesitated a moment before getting to her feet, almost as though she also did not want the moment to end. "This really is a good bandaging job. Have you ever considered quitting piracy and becoming a doctor?"

"Ha ha," Santana said, matching Brittany's sarcastic tone. Brittany held out her good hand and Santana allowed herself to be helped to her feet. They were even closer together when they were standing. "We really need to get out of here."

"So eager to get back to work, huh?" Brittany asked, following Santana as they headed towards the ladder. Santana motioned for Brittany to climb up before her, which ended up being a far less chivalrous gesture than she'd meant it to be, as she ended up getting an eyeful of ass. Santana stared guiltily at her boots until Brittany got to the top.

She made a mental note not to find herself with Brittany in anymore dark, enclosed spaces.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Poker Night**

"Alright, poker time!" Finn called out.

The dinner cleanup had finally ended and Puck had just gone below deck to get his deck of cards. Mike and Artie were already sitting down in the middle of the deck, surrounding a large flat box that they used as their poker table. Everyone else went around them to watch, and Santana suddenly remembered something from her conversation with Brittany at Port Lima.

"Hey Puck!" she called out when he arrived with his cards. "Deal Brittany in."

Puck looked up at Brittany. "You wanna play?"

"Yeah!" Brittany replied. Then her face fell. "Um, but I don't have any money."

"You have shares," Mike said.

Brittany looked confused. "What are shares?"

"Of our booty," Mike explained. "Everyone on the crew works together, so everyone gets an equal share. Most of the money stays with the ship so that we can buy supplies and stuff, but we split the extra and we can spend it however we want."

"But I haven't helped you guys get any booty," Brittany said.

"Doesn't matter. You're in the crew now, you have a share," Santana said. "But they also like to bet cigars and snacks. And services."

"Yeah, like people will take your chores or your watch," Mike said. "Finn sometimes offers to make food for people. Just stuff like that. Whatever you want."

"Okay," Brittany said. "How do I get to bet my...my shares?"

Mike turned to Tina. "Do you have the ledger?" he asked. Tina held up a brown notebook. "That's where we keep our records," Mike explained. "Tina keeps track of how much loot we've brought in and who gets what part of it. She's excellent at math, right babe?"

Tina shrugged modestly. "I'm okay."

"Someone go downstairs and get Brittany her gold," Santana said to no one in particular. Mercedes was the first one to hop up and head over to the hatch. The other boys removed the gold from their pockets, as well as an assortment of cigars and beef jerky. Santana made a face. "I hope you're not planning on eating that," she said.

"What? It lasts for months, come on. _I'll _eat it," Puck said. Mercedes came back with a small bag of gold and handed it to Brittany. Brittany looked inside and nodded.

"Okay," she said. "I think I've got it. Let's play."

Puck dealt out the cards and Santana went to sit behind Brittany. Poker nights always started out fairly civil, but quickly got heated as the spectators started looking at everyone's cards and throwing out advice. It definitely wasn't a gentleman's game, and Santana hoped Brittany would be up to it. Brittany fanned out the two cards she'd been dealt. A three of hearts and an ace of clubs. Okay. There was potential in that.

The four boys and Brittany went around placing their money in the pot, and Puck dealt out a new card every round. Normally, Santana would be joining them in their game, but she wanted to make sure Brittany was doing okay. It was a good thing that Quinn had also opted not to play, deciding instead to sit by Rachel and talk. Quinn would beat Brittany for sure. Against these guys, however, Brittany would have a fighting chance. If she were actually good, anyway. Santana had to keep the victorious look off her face when the last card was turned over. Another ace! "You got this, Brittany," she whispered. "Go for it."

"Fold," Brittany said, setting her cards face down in front of her. Finn smiled smugly and dropped his cards onto the barrel.

"Two pair!" he said. "Can anyone beat that?"

"Dammit," Artie said as the other boys shook their heads in defeat. Santana glared. If _Finn_ beat her girl at this game, she might just have to throw him overboard.

"Sweet," Finn said, sweeping the pot into his own pile. Puck collected the discarded cards and began to deal out a new hand.

The next round began and Brittany started out with an even better hand than before—a pair of eights. When a third eight hit the table, Santana was practically bouncing up and down. "Okay _this _time you have to go for it," she muttered. "You have to."

"Fold," Brittany said again, before the last card had even been turned over. Puck just shrugged as they kept going around.

"What are you doing?" Santana hissed. "Three of a kind, that's a great hand."

Brittany just glanced at Santana mysteriously and kept watching the game. Mike won the second round with two pairs: fives and eights. The second five had been turned over as the final card. "He got lucky," Brittany said quietly to herself. "He started with nothing."

"Three of a kind would beat two pair!" Santana tried to stay quiet, but she couldn't help herself. She usually refused to even join in on the poker nights because she was notoriously competitive.

"I know it does," Brittany said. "Duh."

"Then why—"

"Because," Brittany said simply.

The game continued and Brittany kept folding. She never raised once, even though her hands were no worse than anyone else's. Puck bluffed his way to a win twice, and Santana was about to slam her head against the deck in frustration. Brittany was faring a little better than Artie, who had lost most of his gold when Finn had a full house, but if Artie quit—and he looked like he was about to—Brittany would be dead last. And Santana couldn't have that. It was her first game for God's sake, couldn't her crew go a little easy on her?

Everyone else was mostly ignoring Brittany as more rum was consumed and the unwanted advice began. "Come on, Mike, stop playing like a little kid!" Tina screeched. "That's the money we're saving for my birthday dinner, dammit!"

"I'm trying honey, I'm trying," Mike said, his cheeks turning pink.

Sam was sitting behind Artie, urging him on, and Rachel was squeezing Quinn's thigh somewhat unintentionally as she strained her neck to see the cards that Puck was holding. Santana was busy braiding a small section of her hair and she barely even noticed when Brittany quietly said, "Raise."

Everyone got quiet. Mike, Artie, and Finn had already folded before the last card was set down. Puck looked at Brittany and then back at his hand. "No biggie. I'll raise too."

Brittany wordlessly added more gold to the pile. Puck narrowed his eyes at her and did the same. They went back and forth, raising the bets, as everyone watched. The crew had gone from insanely noisy to dead silent—Santana could swear they were all holding their breath.

"Wanna go all in?" Brittany said. "Come on, let's get this thing over with."

Puck bit his lip. Then he shook his head. "Slow and steady," he said. "I'll raise you two more. Getting scared yet?"

"Nope, not scared." Brittany just shrugged and placed another handful of gold in the middle. Santana leaned over and looked at Brittany's hand for the first time. She struggled to keep her face unreadable, but she couldn't help letting out a tiny gasp. Brittany had…

…nothing.

She had nothing, not even a pair, not even a handful of matching suits. Her highest card was one on the table, a king. Puck would beat her with almost anything. And yet, she was sitting completely calmly, with the exact same expression she'd worn in every other round. Santana's eyes were as big as dinner plates as Brittany reached forward and pushed all of her gold into the center of the circle.

"All in," she said.

Her words hung in the air as everyone waited for Puck's reaction. He looked down at his own pile of gold, considerably bigger than Brittany's but sadly depleted from what it had been at the beginning of the round. If he went all in and lost to the new girl, he would lose all his dignity. But what Puck didn't know, and what Santana practically did, was that if he copied Brittany's move, he would take it all. He would clean up. He would win the biggest pot in the history of _McKinley _poker. Santana couldn't breathe.

"Fold."

"Yes!" Santana shrieked before she could stop herself. She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, but it didn't matter—Brittany set down her cards, and everyone lost it.

"You had _nothing_?" Puck gasped. He threw his cards down. "I had a pair of kings and you had nothing! Oh my God. How the hell did that happen?" He grabbed the sides of his head in frustration, but Santana could also see the admiration in his eyes. "Shit, girl! What kind of alien are you?"

"She's a force to be reckoned with, for sure," Artie said, shaking his head in disbelief. Brittany just smiled as she began to put the gold into her bag. Santana was so happy that she completely forgot herself, and she threw an arm over Brittany's shoulder. Brittany did not shy away from the touch.

"Wow," Finn said. "Where did you learn to bluff like that?"

"Just…around," Brittany said, still smiling mysteriously. Santana looked at her, feeling irrationally proud.

"Well," Puck said breathlessly. "I think that's a good time to end, I don't know how we could do another round after that." He reached forward and held out his hand. Brittany lifted her good one to shake it. "That was well played, Britt. Very well played."

"Thanks," Brittany replied. Artie gave her a hi-five. Everyone else got slowly to their feet, collecting their empty rum bottles and showering Brittany with praise. Brittany made no move to get up, however, and Santana cautiously rested her chin on Brittany's shoulder.

"That was amazing," she said quietly.

"I guess," Brittany said casually, but she was beaming. "I feel bad for taking all his money, though. Maybe I can say we were just playing for fun."

"No, don't do that," Santana said. "Puck has enough money, he'll be fine. He usually wins." She shifted so that the top of her head was now resting against the crook of Brittany's neck. Just like with the hug, Brittany stiffened but did not move away. "So let me guess. You kept folding so that everyone would think that when you did bet, you had a great hand. Am I right?"

"Kinda," Brittany replied. "I also just wanted to get a feel for how everyone else played."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Puck only had one pair. He was mostly bluffing. Every time he bluffs, he rubs the back of his neck between rounds."

"Really?" Santana asked in surprise. She'd been playing Puck for years and she'd never noticed that. But then again, she hadn't really looked.

"He did it every time," Brittany said. "Everyone has a tell. It's what they do when they're bluffing. Don't tell anyone this," she added quickly. "If people know about it, I won't be able to beat them."

"Don't worry," Santana said. "It'll be our secret."

"You two look cozy," said a voice from above them. Santana looked up to see Mercedes, walking by with Sam on their way to the hull. She blushed and sat up straight, letting her arm slide down to the small of Brittany's back.

"Are you guys going to bed?" Brittany asked. "I'll come with you."

"You sure?" Sam asked. "You don't wanna stay here and, uh, celebrate your victory?" He looked pointedly at Santana, and she longed to make some witty retort. But her mouth felt like it was sealed shut.

"I'll celebrate with you guys!" Brittany said. "I'll be down in just a minute."

"Okay," Sam said. He took Mercedes's hand and helped her though the hatch before following her. Santana turned to look at Brittany.

"You should go hang out with them," she said, even though she kind of wanted Brittany all to herself right now. "The first watch is gonna start soon, and I'm sure everyone wants a chance to congratulate you." She smiled. "Poker champs are taken very seriously around here."

Brittany shifted so that she was turned towards Santana. "Really?"

"Yeah, definitely," Santana said. "Poker champs and good storytellers. Anyone who can entertain us is worth having around, in our book."

"Hm," Brittany said. "Well…I like stories. I told one last night."

"You're good at telling them," Santana said, thinking back to the story she'd told her over breakfast. "I have to be honest with you, I was there when Finn fell overboard. But you still made it funny as hell."

Brittany blushed. "Right, of course you were there," she said. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Don't be sorry," Santana said. "I'm glad you told it."

"So I guess that means I'm pretty cool, right?" Brittany said. "I mean, if I tell stories and play poker."

"Oh, for sure," Santana said. "You'll be, like, the most popular person on the whole ship." Her tone was light and playful, but she was actually serious. And there was a little selfish part of her that didn't want anyone else to see how awesome Brittany was. But she brushed it off quickly. "They already love you."

"Good," Brittany said, grinning. They were silent for a few moments, each looking absentmindedly at one another. Santana looked at the wisps of blond hair falling from her ponytail, the sparkling blue of her eyes, the way the corners of her lips were turned up in an almost-smile. Santana could not stop staring at those lips.

"You look pretty tonight," she said quietly. She felt silly saying it, but it made Brittany smile.

"Thanks," she replied. Then she blushed. "You want to kiss me right now, don't you?"

Santana forced her eyes back up to meet Brittany's. "Maybe," she said, her heart thudding.

Brittany smiled and reached up to trace her finger lightly across Santana's cheek. "You look pretty tonight, too," she said. "I better go get some sleep before my watch."

"Okay," Santana said, trying not to pout as Brittany pulled away. They got to their feet and Santana walked her over to the hatch. "So what are you going to do with all your winnings?" she asked.

"I don't know," Brittany replied. "I still feel like I don't really deserve it, I don't know what to do." She paused as she reached the entrance to the hull, and looked up at Santana. "Help me think of something?"

Santana smiled. "Alright," she said. "I'll let you know if I think of something. And, you know, I wouldn't be opposed if you decided to put it towards my castle fund."

"Oh?" Brittany raised her eyebrows. "You're building a castle?"

"A small one, yeah," Santana said with a nod. "For when I become Queen of England."

"Ah, yes, that makes sense," Brittany said. Then she leaned in so that her lips were grazing Santana's ear. "You'd make a sexy queen."

"You bet I would," Santana replied. She tried to sound cocky, but it just came out as breathless. "I'd kick ass at it, too."

"I'm sure." Brittany pulled away. "Goodnight Santana."

"Night Brittany," Santana replied. Brittany gave her a small wave as she descended into the hull. Santana waved back and then turned to go to her cabin.

She was going to have to find some way to become Queen of England—like, right now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: A Painful Revelation**

Santana never thought that she'd be mildly okay with being on watch, but she honestly wouldn't mind doing it forever if she could be with Brittany every time. As captain, her name came up very occasionally on the schedule, and it was usually to take the first shift or the last shift. By chance, she and Brittany had ended up on the dawn watch together, and after the first hour of groggy silence and shivering, they had finally settled down by the bow. The sky was just beginning to lighten and Santana's arm was around Brittany's shoulder.

"Why not just take yourself off the watch schedule completely?" Brittany asked. "On the _Titan_, none of the mates had to do it, ever."

Santana's eyes narrowed. "We do things differently on the _McKinley_," she said. "It just wouldn't seem fair if I didn't do it. Schuester never did watch. But, like, these people are my friends. I should have to suffer with them, at least sometimes."

"That's sweet of you," Brittany said. She reached up to lace her fingers through the hand resting on her shoulder. "You're an amazing captain."

"You might be a little biased," Santana said.

"And you're the prettiest captain," Brittany continued.

"Well, now, that's just a fact." Santana smirked. "You're not so bad-looking yourself, I might have to promote you to first mate."

"I bet the rest of the crew would love that." Brittany snuggled tiredly into Santana's side. "I want to be on watch with you all the time."

"That would be quite suspicious," Santana said.

"I don't care. Besides, Mercedes and Sam already think something is going on between us."

"Do they?" Santana suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Did they say something to you?"

"They just asked 'How's Santana?' in that _way, _you know?" Brittany gave a small shrug. "I played it cool. I just said you were fine, busy, whatever."

Santana let out a breath. "Okay," she said.

"Do you not want people to know about us?" Brittany blushed. "I mean, assuming that there _is _an us."

"There's definitely an us," Santana said. "At least...I mean," she lifted their intertwined fingers, "this isn't nothing."

"Good," Brittany said, blushing. "It doesn't feel like nothing."

"I just...I guess we should talk about this, though. About the crew knowing, I mean. It's just a little bit awkward..."

"You don't need to favor me or anything," Brittany said. "I know you're the captain and I work for. I won't forget that, even if we do become…something more."

"I know," Santana said, nodding. "I know you'll do it. It's just, there will always be some people waiting to question me if I give you some kind of order or something that they think is unfair. I just really..." She sighed. "I really like you and I don't want to poison this with other people's involvement."

"You know, you should trust them," Brittany said. "I mean, I know I just got here, but everyone has been super nice and accommodating. I think they would totally support you—us—in this."

Santana glanced down at Brittany and bit her lip. She wished she could have some of Brittany's optimism, of her desire to see good in people. "I just became captain so recently, though," Santana said. "This just feels like a lot to spring on them all of a sudden."

"I understand," Brittany said. "It's okay, I promise. We'll tell them when we're ready."

"But I'm not ashamed of you or anything," Santana said quickly. "I just don't know what this is yet, and I'd like to keep it between us until we figure it all out."

Brittany nodded. "Okay," she said. She reached over and placed her other hand lightly on Santana's thigh. "I guess I can wait around for you to make up your mind."

Santana grinned. "You better."

The hatch began to slide open and Brittany and Santana instinctively put some space between them. Santana rested her hands in her lap as Finn and Rachel emerged from below. They glanced at Brittany and Santana and waved. Brittany waved back.

"What are they doing?" Santana asked, knowing full well that Brittany wouldn't know the answer. It was strange for people to voluntarily get up before they had to, and it wasn't time for Finn to start making breakfast yet.

"Not sure," Brittany replied. They watched as Finn led Rachel up to the quarter deck. He placed his hand on her lower back as she ascended the stairs. Santana glanced at Brittany with her eyebrows raised.

"Interesting…" she said.

"I guess _they_ aren't trying to keep a secret," Brittany said. "But I thought Rachel liked Quinn…"

Santana just shrugged. "I mean, she's handsy and they're sort of disgusting together. But that doesn't necessarily mean anything." She smiled. "Wanna go see what's up?"

"You mean like spy on them?" Santana nodded. "Wow, a captain that spies on her crew, that's comforting. I might have to take back all the nice things I said about you earlier." Brittany smiled to show that she was teasing.

"Oh come on," Santana said. "Aren't you curious?"

Brittany hesitated. "Fine," she said. Santana jumped up immediately and pulled Brittany to her feet. "But we have to be sneaky about this!" she said. "I don't want people to know I've been eavesdropping, I'm just starting to make friends."

"Don't worry," Santana said. "Nobody seems to know this, but the quarter deck is, like, the worst place for privacy. It's right above my cabin." She looked up at Finn and Rachel, who were facing away from them, looking over the railing. "Follow me."

The two of them tiptoed quickly and quietly across the deck. Santana opened the door to her cabin and they slipped inside. The ceiling of the room was slats of wood that made up the deck above, and she could hear creaking as Finn walked above her. She followed the sound with her eyes, jumping up onto the bed to be closer. Brittany climbed up after her and they stood, gazing upwards, waiting to hear some sound.

"Finn," Rachel said finally, and though her voice was muffled, they could make out her words in the absence of any other noise from the deck. "This isn't the kind of decision I can make in one day."

"Then stay longer," Finn pleaded. "Don't get off at Cheerio Island. We'll take you back home to Port Lima."

"I don't like being on this ship," Rachel protested.

"I thought you liked me," Finn said, and Santana rolled her eyes at how pathetic his voice sounded. "Can't you stay here, for me?"

"It has nothing to do with you," Rachel said. "Santana's not going to bother taking me home until she's finished finding Blaine, she said so herself. And I can't blame her. This isn't my world, I don't belong here."

"But I want you here," Finn protested. "I think I'm in love with you."

Brittany looked at Santana with wide eyes. _Love?_ she mouthed. Santana bit her lip to keep from saying something sarcastic and mean. "This is all happening too quickly," Rachel said above them. She sounded flustered. "I—I can't change my life for you, we hardly know each other."

"Then stay here and get to know me."

"I want to," Rachel said. "I'd love to. But not here on this ship, not with all these pirates. This isn't the life I want."

"Well—me neither!" Finn said, raising his voice slightly in desperation. "You think I like being on this pirate ship?"

"I think you love it," Rachel said. "And I'm not sure why you're implying that you're going to throw all this away for me…"

"Because I want to be with you," Finn begged.

There was a long silence. "I need more time," Rachel said finally. "I just need to be alone, and I need to think about this."

"Okay," Finn said. "Okay, that sounds fine. Sure. I can deal with that."

"Alright," Rachel said. "I'm going back to bed. I guess…I guess we can talk about this when we get to Cheerio Island."

"Perfect," Finn said. "That sounds perfect, thank you." Footsteps sounded above their head and Santana dropped down to a sitting position, bouncing slightly on the mattress. Brittany copied her.

"That was weird," she said.

"Yeah," Santana replied. "Really weird."

"And a little bit romantic."

"That wasn't my first thought at all."

Brittany smirked and reached forward, pinching Santana's cheek. "I'm gonna see if Finn wants help with breakfast," she said.

"But…" Santana pouted. "Can't we just stay here for a little bit? We can jump on the bed." She bounced a little to demonstrate. Brittany raised her eyebrows.

"Jump on the bed? That's how you're planning to get me to stay here with you?"

Santana bit her lip. "Maybe."

Brittany smiled. "Tempting. But I'm hungry. And I told Finn I'd help him out."

"I thought you liked me. Can't you stay here, for me? Can't you, Rachel?"

Brittany actually laughed at that—Santana thought the sound was adorable. "This isn't the life I want," she said in a high-pitched voice. "I don't want to be a pirate!"

"Those two are idiots," Santana said through her giggles. "I kind of want to throw them off the ship."

"But then we wouldn't have any fun with them," Brittany said.

"True," Santana replied. Then she reached for Brittany's hand. "This is fun, though. Please stay."

"As much as I love finally seeing you laugh," Brittany began, "I do have to work if I want people to think you made a good decision by keeping me. And besides, I'm not sure how long you can last sitting with me on this bed." She reached forward and tousled Santana's hair. "Before your dirty brain gets any dirty ideas."

Santana swallowed hard as said dirty ideas began to flash through her mind. "You're a tease, you know that? The biggest tease I've ever encountered, actually."

Brittany climbed off the bed. "I can live with that," she said. "Bye Sanny."

"Bye…Britty," Santana replied, her cheeks burning as Brittany left the cabin.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Santana kept a curious eye on Finn and Rachel. They didn't talk very much, but they weren't unfriendly to one another, either—if Santana hadn't overheard them this morning, she wouldn't have even known something was going on. She kept chancing glances at Quinn, wondering if she'd caught on to this new development, but it didn't seem that she had. She was still flirting with Rachel and Rachel was still flirting back, which made Santana wonder. She was glad that Brittany was fairly upfront about her feelings; she didn't think she could handle the strange beating around the bush that Quinn seemed to be so into. It was almost as though she relished the chase more than anything else.

When Tina finally announced that Cheerio Island was visible on the horizon, however, Quinn's mood deteriorated considerably. "San," Brittany said as they served themselves some stew, "Quinn's eating alone. We should join her."

"We should really just go sit by ourselves," Santana said, but she couldn't completely blow off her best friend. And Brittany seemed so eager to help her, so Santana grudgingly allowed herself to be led across the deck. Quinn was sitting by the railing, munching on a piece of bread and looking away.

"You look like a sad panda," Brittany said. "What's wrong?"

Quinn turned around slowly and looked at Brittany with her eyebrows raised. "I'm, uh, I'm fine," she said, glancing at Santana. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Brittany asked. Quinn shook her head. "It might make you feel better."

"Yeah, come on," Santana said. "Talk about it." She smiled teasingly. Quinn was sad about Rachel's impending departure, probably, and Santana was interested to see if she would admit this to Brittany. Brittany was looking at Quinn earnestly, and Quinn seemed to struggle for a moment.

"I just don't want to see my old boss," she said finally.

"Oh come on," Santana said. "Isn't there anything else?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes, looking annoyed. "No," she said. "There isn't."

"What about Rachel?" Brittany asked.

"What about her?" Quinn looked between the two of them angrily. "You don't understand shit, do you? Have you ever thought that maybe seeing the woman who made my life hell and controlled me for a number of years could be a little traumatic? Have you ever thought that coming back to see her is not something I feel prepared to do?"

"Geez Quinn, calm down," Santana said. "We were just teasing."

"You're always just teasing!" Quinn shouted. "But it's annoying, Santana, okay? It's super fucking annoying. You have no idea what I feel."

Santana opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again. She wasn't sure what to say. "You're right," Brittany snapped unexpectedly from beside her. "You're right, we have no idea."

Santana turned to Brittany. She was glaring at Quinn—it was a look she'd never seen on Brittany's face before.

"I have no idea," she continued, "what it's like to be beaten, harassed, abused, to be broken. I have no idea what it feels like to go back to someone that you really don't want to see. No idea whatsoever. Being on the _Titan _was just a big vacation for me."

"I'm sorry," Quinn said quickly. "I'm sorry, Brittany, I—"

"Forgot?" Brittany supplied. "Never knew in the first place? Were too preoccupied with Rachel and your own life to think about another human being?" She shook her head. "You don't have to apologize to her, Santana. I'll take the blame for this one." She turned and headed for the stairs, disappearing quickly onto the quarter deck. Santana took one look at Quinn's dumbstruck face and followed.

Brittany was sitting in the corner of the deck and she looked up as Santana approached. "Babe," Santana said, surprising herself with the term of endearment that came out of her mouth. "Are you alright?"

"I'm so sorry," Brittany said, and she looked as though she genuinely meant it. "I shouldn't have said any of that."

"You definitely should have," Santana said. "Quinn needs to be put in her place once in a while. I love her but she is completely self-centered sometimes." She crossed the deck and sat down next to Brittany, being careful to keep a space between them in case Brittany needed it. "I'm sorry she was so insensitive."

"You don't have to be sorry," Brittany said. "It's no one's fault, what I went through."

"I just…I wish you didn't feel like you had to be so brave about it," Santana said quietly. Brittany didn't respond immediately, and Santana looked down at the deck, studying the grain of the wood.

"He raped me," Brittany said finally.

Santana looked up so fast that her neck cracked.

"Karofsky." Brittany was tugging on her shoelace—she looked like she was a million miles away. When she spoke, it was almost as though Santana wasn't really there. "He used me as, like, his personal toy."

Santana's gut was clenching. She didn't want to hear this and yet she could bring herself to ask Brittany to stop, not when Brittany looked like she was determined to get the words out, no matter how much they hurt.

"It just started out when he asked me to clean his cabin for him. It wasn't that big of a deal because it wasn't as bad as cleaning the heads or the brig or something. I didn't even mind so much that he was usually in there when I was dusting and sweeping. He didn't say anything to me, at first." Her voice was toneless, vacant. "It wasn't until the third week or so that he started asking me to do other things for him."

"What kind of things?" Santana breathed.

"He would tell me to stand close to him. To clean one spot over and over. He was always getting in my way, brushing against me, trying to make me touch him. He would take off his clothes sometimes so that I could wash them, and he wouldn't put anything else on. He would just lay there on the bed, watching me…"

Santana shuddered.

"Then he started asking _me _to take off my clothes. I tried to refuse him, but he told me he would make me walk the plank. So I did it. Then, the next time, when I walked in—he hit me. He slapped me across the face for not being in my 'uniform'."

Santana thought about the first time she'd met Brittany in her cabin, when Brittany had asked if she should remove her clothes. She wanted to vomit.

"So I had to clean naked for him, and of course he kept trying to touch me, and things escalated from there." Brittany swallowed hard, showing the first sign of emotion since the story had started. "I tried to keep him away from me, but he just kept threatening me. And hitting me…"

"How long did it go on?" Santana dared to ask.

"About five months, I think," Brittany said. Santana gasped. "That was about when, you know, the sex started. He relieved me of all my other duties and made me come into his cabin almost every single day. He loved thinking up new things for me to do, and when I disobeyed, he would hit me. When I was good to him, he treated me well. But sometimes…" She took a shaky breath. "Sometimes he just hit me anyway. For no reason."

"Did anyone else on the ship know about this?" Santana demanded. Her whole body was shaking. She couldn't imagine that the entire crew and all the slaves would just let something like this happen. And to someone as sweet and innocent as Brittany.

"A few of his buddies knew, but I think he thought the crew would mutiny him if they all found out about it," Brittany said. "Apparently some of the guys had a conscience. We had to be really discreet. One time, I made a little too much noise and he…he gagged me."

"I can't even imagine…" Santana began. "I—I just…"

"I got used to it after a little while," Brittany said. "It wasn't until I came back here, really, that I realized how horrible it had been. I know I was so withdrawn when I first came here but the truth was that I was really just, so overwhelmed by everyone's kindness. By you." Brittany looked at Santana and her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping them quickly. "I'm trying not to get emotional…"

"Brittany, don't," Santana began, "don't apologize, you can seriously cry as much as you want about this, this is just…" She shook her head, at a complete loss for words. She wanted to reach for Brittany, but she couldn't seem to move her body.

"I know I _can _cry, I just don't want to," Brittany said. "I want to forget. You know?"

"Of course."

"I wanna try to talk about it as this distant thing, this event that happened, I want to disconnect it from everything I'm feeling right here and right now. I want it to be gone." Her voice was low and determined, far different from the playful tone that she'd had over the last few days.

"You're incredible, you know that?" Santana whispered. "Just incredible."

Brittany's cheeks tinged pink as she looked at Santana. "You look awful," she said. "You're white as a sheet." She frowned in concern. "And you're shaking."

"I'm fine," Santana said quickly, "seriously, I'm not the one who…" She trailed off as Brittany crawled towards her and pulled her into a hug. She had her arms around Santana's neck, holding her gently against her shoulder, cradling her. Santana hesitated only a moment before slipping her arms around Brittany's waist, holding her tightly, letting out one shaky breath after the next.

"It's okay," Brittany said, sounding eerily calm, and Santana couldn't understand for the life of her why she was the one being comforted in this situation. She gripped Brittany a little tighter and pressed her lips against Brittany's shoulder.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked after a moment. "This hug, it's different from what you're usually comfortable with."

"I'm good," Brittany said quietly. She turned her head slightly and kissed Santana softly on the cheek. "This is okay. It's more than okay." Santana felt her relax completely into the embrace. "I like you so much," she said with a sigh.

"I'm here for you," Santana replied, fighting back tears. "Whatever you need, whatever you want to talk about, I'm here, you got that?"

"Got it," Brittany murmured against Santana's neck. She squeezed tighter, and Santana knew she wasn't going to be letting go anytime soon. She had no idea what to do about Karofsky, no idea how to avenge this beautiful girl that she was quickly and decidedly falling for. But the fact that Brittany was willing to hug her, well, that had to mean something.

Santana was determined to do whatever she could to make Brittany better.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Cheerio Island**

Cheerio Island looked exactly the same as Santana remembered. The one small village was dark and uninviting, the people were dirty and kept to themselves, and most of the outdoor space was filled with pigs. It wasn't somewhere that anybody wanted to spend a great deal of time, and Santana hoped the meeting with Sue went well so that they could leave first thing in the morning. Sunset was approaching quickly, and Santana knew there was no way that they could get out that night.

They gathered at the dock. Puck and Brittany were to accompany Santana to see Sue, and everyone else had been given different jobs involving resupplying and cleaning up around the ship. Santana had chosen Puck because he would be the most useful if anything went wrong, and Brittany because, well, she wanted Brittany there. She was inviting her almost-girlfriend under the guise of wanting to teach her about pirate interactions and negotiations. Everyone accepted this excuse without question—everyone but Mercedes, who raised a suspicious eyebrow as she walked past.

Santana waited until everyone was going about their assignments before getting ready to leave with Puck and Brittany. But at the last minute, Quinn left her spot in the guard and approached them. "I want in," she said. "Take me with you, I want to see Sue."

"Quinn…" Santana began. "You better not sabotage this for me. We really need any information we can get."

"I know you do," Quinn said. "And I'm the one who knows her. You think she's just gonna give up information without a fight? Come on, you need my help."

Puck and Brittany were looking at Santana, waiting for her response. "I need someone who's cool and collected," Santana said, "who's going to do a good job with this. I can't have you freaking out on me."

"I won't," Quinn said. "I promise." She picked at her fingernails and looked at Santana nervously. "Please," she said, "I need to do this."

"Fine," Santana relented. "But you let me handle this, you understand? I don't want you getting all crazy on me."

"Of course," Quinn said with a nod. Santana turned and her three crewmembers followed her, walking wordlessly down the dock and to the main street. They passed only a few people on their way, and Santana kept her head down. She didn't want to attract too much attention.

"It's a right up ahead, isn't it?" Santana asked after a few moments.

"Yeah," Quinn replied from behind her. "You have a good memory."

"It's only been two years," Santana said. As she looked around, she remembered living on Cheerio Island like it was yesterday. It was where she'd said goodbye to David, regretting her decision to leave him almost immediately. The town had offered nothing to her, and she was half considering building herself a rowboat and going to the next island over to see if she could get some work over there. But then she'd met Quinn, and the two of them had lived together for almost a month before they found a ship to take them to Port Lima.

"How are you doing?"

Quinn's soft voice drifted slowly up to Santana's ears. Santana realized she wasn't the one Quinn was talking to when Brittany replied, "Fine."

"I'm sorry for going off on you yesterday," Quinn said. "It was…"

"No, I'm sorry," Brittany replied, and Santana could hear the shyness in her voice. "I have no idea why I did that, I usually don't lose control like that."

"It's understandable," Quinn said. "Don't worry. Hey, maybe Santana is rubbing off on you."

Santana could hear the smile in Brittany's voice as she replied, "Maybe."

"This place is the dumps," Puck said. "I can't believe the two of you lived here for so long. Especially you, Quinn."

"I didn't have much of a choice," Quinn said. "Before Santana suggested it, I'd never even thought about working on a pirate ship before. I thought this was the best I could get."

"I guess I'm not the only one who owes their life to Santana," Brittany said. Santana was glad that she was leading the group, so that nobody saw the way she blushed at Brittany's words. It was true, she supposed, that she was the one responsible for getting Quinn out of her disastrous job at the Salmon Shack. But Quinn had helped her just as much.

Santana hadn't expected it, but she and Quinn had become best friends almost instantly. She'd actually been going to the Salmon Shack with the intention of having some old fashioned pirate fun, since it was something she had never been allowed to do aboard David's ship. But when Quinn danced for her and offered her a night, Santana wasn't able to go through with it. She bought Quinn a drink instead, and they spent the whole evening talking. Like Santana, Quinn had ended up at Cheerio Island in her search for freedom. She'd left her parents a year prior and had been hoping to make enough money to be a barmaid somewhere nice. Her father had wanted her to become a nun, but Quinn had been dead set against it. Their upbringings had been completely different but Santana understood her need to break free, to be someone new, to flout authority and reach for the stars.

Quinn had offered to let Santana stay with her in her small house by the seaside, and it was there that their plans to join a pirate ship were born. Santana had met Sue Sylvester only occasionally during this time, and they had gotten along well, despite the fact that Santana refused Sue's job offer multiple times. But now that she had stolen away Sue's best dancer, Santana doubted she would be greeted with open arms.

"We're here," Quinn said bluntly. Santana stopped in her tracks. They'd reached the Salmon Shack, its windows still as cracked and its sign still as faded as the night Santana had first set foot inside. Sue lived in a little basement beneath the premises, and Santana led the way into the bar. Quinn followed with a blank expression on her face—Santana could tell she was shutting down. It was what she always did when she got nervous, and Santana couldn't help but feel nervous as well. For the first time, she understood why Quinn had made such a big deal about coming here.

"This is where you worked?" Brittany asked, glancing around at the dirty tables and the makeshift stage in the corner. It was just a tad too early for the nighttime crowd to come in, and the only people inside were the bartender and a fat man sleeping deeply in the corner. He snored and Quinn nodded.

"This was my kingdom," she said tonelessly. The bartender looked at them hopefully as they approached.

"Sorry," Santana said, "but we don't want your dish soap flavored liquor right now, we're going to see Sue Sylvester."

"I'm sorry," the bartender squeaked, "but Sue doesn't want guests. She didn't mention that she was expecting someone." He looked at them nervously from under his large bush of hair.

"Did I stutter?" Santana asked rudely. "I said we're here to see Sue."

"She doesn't—"

"Jacob." Quinn stepped out from behind Santana and the bartender's mouth dropped slightly. "Let us through."

"You—but you—Quinn Fabray?" Jacob looked at them with wide eyes. "But you haven't been here in almost two years!"

"And I'm here now," Quinn said. "Way to state the obvious, you were always so good at it. I see that you've been promoted from cleanup duty, well done, well done." She placed a hand on her hip and looked at him with hooded, dangerous eyes.

"I'm the day bartender," Jacob said, still looking at Quinn in awe. "Sue still hasn't given me…"

"I don't really care," Quinn said, "I was just being polite. You remember Santana, don't you?" She motioned lazily behind her and Jacob looked properly at Santana for the first time. As they sized each other up, Santana had a moment of recognition. She vaguely remembered seeing this guy around, and from what she could recall, he was a particularly vile specimen. She grimaced.

"I remember you," Jacob said. "I always hoped you'd become a dancer here." His eyes lingered for too long on her chest and Santana crossed her arms angrily.

"I think we've done enough catching up," Santana said, and Quinn nodded. "Can you please take us to see Sue?"

"Certainly," Jacob said. "She'll definitely be, uh, surprised." He set down the glass that he'd been cleaning and motioned for them to follow him. They went through a small door behind the bar and headed down a rickety staircase. "Watch your step," he said. "It gets dark down here."

Quinn groaned. "Sue never lit this place," she said quietly. "It made it feel so much seedier…"

"Maybe she's a vampire," Brittany suggested. "We have to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"It's a distinct possibility," Santana said, biting back a smile.

"What's a vampire?" Puck asked.

"Shh." They reached the bottom of the staircase and Jacob led them down a hall. "She has ears like a fox, it's best to stop talking now." There was light flickering from underneath one of the doors, and he took them to it. Then he paused, and knocked.

"JBI?" a voice called from within. "That better not be you, your shift isn't over yet."

"I'm sorry," Jacob called back. "But you have some visitors and, well, I think you want to see…" He sighed and looked nervously back at Quinn, as though hoping for some support. Quinn remained stoic. "Can I bring them in?"

There was a shuffling from behind the door and a moment later, it was pulled open by a short girl in a barmaid's dress. She looked straight up at Santana and looked back. Santana recognized her immediately—she was usually tending the bars in the evenings when Quinn worked and when Santana went to see her. This was Becky Jackson.

"I know you," Becky said as she and Santana gave each other the once over. Santana had never had anything in particular against Becky, but she knew that Becky was Sue's personal assistant and she knew they should be wary of her. Becky pulled the door open and Jacob stepped out of the way, motioning everyone inside. They walked into what appeared to be Sue's office. Sue was sitting by the desk, her head bent over a piece of paper. She didn't look up until Santana cleared her throat.

For a moment, Sue just stared at Santana. Then her mouth settled into a distinct frown. "You," she said, her expression a mixture of surprise and anger. "What are you doing in my bar?"

"Oh, is this your bar?" Santana said. "I had forgotten."

"Don't bullshit me," Sue said. "Don't think I don't remember what you did, you and your little friend. Where is Miss Fabray, anyway? Why are you here?"

"I…" Santana turned her head and looked behind her. Brittany and Puck had followed her into the room, but Quinn was nowhere to be seen. She cocked her head to the side and Puck gave the tiniest of shrugs. Where could Quinn have gone? She'd been right behind them.

"Lopez, I don't like to be kept waiting, especially not by you," Sue said in a dangerous voice. "Tell me what you want, and I'll decide how quickly to kick you and your little friends out of here."

"I'd like to see you try to kick us out," Puck said, taking a step forward. Santana gave him a warning glare. She was feeling pretty stupid right now—clearly, she'd underestimated just how much she'd angered Sue before she'd disappeared. And the stunt she'd pulled with Quinn the night before they left…yeah, she'd forgotten about that, too.

Sue looked at Puck and chuckled condescendingly. "You better hold on to your boyfriend, Lopez, or I'm gonna have to incapacitate him with a swift kick in the nads. Maybe Becky here can do it, she's got a great high kick." She winked and Becky smiled in response. Santana took a quick step between Puck and Sue.

"We need your help with something," she said quickly. "A matter that requires some…discretion." She glanced at Becky as she spoke and Sue raised an eyebrow.

"Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of my most trusted worker," Sue replied.

"Actually, I can't," Santana said. Truthfully, she didn't know exactly how secretive she had to be with this information, but if Becky's high kick was really as good as Sue implied, then maybe it would be better if she left the room. Santana could see the look of curiosity in Sue's eyes, and a moment later, she turned to Becky. They had a silent exchange and Becky headed for the door.

"Alright," Sue said, "you've awoken the beast. Congratulations. Now tell me what it is that you need my expertise for. And I'm not making any promises."

Santana sighed. Where the hell was Quinn? She glanced over at Brittany and then said, "I remember from when I first met you that you have a fascination with pirate treasure."

"That is true, yes," Sue said.

"Well, we were wondering if maybe you could help us out with a particular piece."

Sue folded her hands together on her desk and looked at Santana searchingly. "Yes?" she prompted.

Santana took a deep breath. It was now or never. Sue could either help them or sabotage them, but right now, she was all Santana had. Resolving to kill Quinn whenever she turned up, Santana said, "We don't know what much about it but we know there's a chest. And a key. The chest used to be hidden somewhere in Port Carmel but now we don't know where it is. And…" Santana looked at Brittany. "Is there anything else?"

Brittany looked worriedly at Santana before clearing her throat. "It's about—about this big." She held out her hands about a foot apart. "And twice as long."

"Yeah, it's something small," Santana said. "Is there any chance…?"

"I know it."

Santana's eyes widened. "You do?" She hadn't expected Sue to figure out what they were talking about so quickly. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Sue replied. "I'm surprised you don't know the story, actually. I seem to recall you telling Quinn that your parents used to be pirates."

"Well, what is it?" Santana asked, forcing herself to be patient. "They never mentioned it."

Sue smiled. "I'm not going to tell you."

"That's not fair," Puck said immediately. "You've gotta tell us."

"I don't believe I do, shark boy," she said, eyeing his mohawk with disdain. "She asked if I knew it and I answered by saying yes, I did."

"We really need to know," Santana said. "We'd appreciate if—"

"I don't care what you would appreciate," Sue said. She looked Santana up and down. "You know, I used to think you'd be a great addition to my staff. You had the talent for it and you knew when to back down. Now, I don't know what's happened to you. You barge in here, asking me for help, demanding that I tell you things that you have no right to know. It's downright insubordinate."

"I don't answer to you," Santana said. "I never did. I didn't work for you."

"But that's your mistake!" Sue said. "You're pirating now, aren't you? How far do you think you're gonna make it? Maybe you'll get killed, maybe you'll drown, maybe you'll be stabbed in the back! This is why I never went after pirate treasure myself. Because people need _rules_."

"We have rules," Santana said. "And don't even try to trick me into believing that you'd rather be living here than rolling in gold."

"There's honor in what I do," Sue said. "I make these girls into performers."

"You make them into whores!" Santana shot back.

There was a terrifying moment of silence. "You don't know what you're saying," Sue said finally. "You have no concept of talent, of art. All you care about is money. I think you should go now."

"I'm not going anywhere," Santana said firmly. "You're wrong, I'm not doing this for the money. I'm doing this because I lost a crew member and this could be my only chance to save him."

"That doesn't move me," Sue said. "I have no doubt that the reason he's gone has something to do with your pirating ways."

"That's not the point—"

"You took Quinn from me," Sue said, her voice raising. "You took her away from the life she had, from the talent and promise that she showed. You turned her into filthy scum, you threw away her future."

"She was dancing for men, she wasn't doing ballet!" Santana shouted. "How can you think she wanted that, she—she _hated_ it!"

"You don't know anything!" Sue screeched. "You lived here for a month, you—you didn't know us…" Sue's face was red and flushed; she didn't seem to know what she was trying to say. Santana's fists clenched.

"Sylvester, you better…"

"Tell her what she wants to know."

Santana whirled around at the new voice. She hadn't even heard the door open and neither had Sue—Brittany had been standing in the way. But now that she had moved aside, everyone could see Quinn standing in the doorway, holding an envelope in her hand and looking livid.

"Q!" Sue said, and for a moment she actually looked relieved. "I should have known Lopez wouldn't come here alone. She was always a coward. How are you?"

Quinn seemed to be unaffected by the warmth of Sue's greeting. She pushed her way between Brittany and Puck and strode over to the desk, throwing the envelope down. "Does this look familiar?" she asked angrily.

All the color drained from Sue's face as she picked up the envelope. She didn't open it; she simply turned it over in her hands and looked at it with genuine fear. "How did you get into my room?" she asked.

"Jacob let me in," Quinn said, "he always wanted to see my titties and now he got his chance." Her voice was actually shaking with anger and Santana leaned over to try and see the envelope, but all she could make out was a broken wax seal. "I swore if I ever came back here, I would find that."

Sue swallowed hard. "You looked for it before, didn't you? That night that you and Santana broke in and took all my kegs."

"Yeah," Quinn said. "I did, and when I didn't find it I thought maybe, _maybe_, I had been wrong about you. But I obviously wasn't."

"Quinn," Santana said. "What's going on?" She was thinking back to their last night on Cheerio Island, when they'd decided it would be funny to throw the Salmon Shack's new rum shipment into the ocean. There had been about twenty minutes when they'd split up, but Santana had always thought Quinn was looking for more kegs. Until now.

"It's none of your business, Santana," Quinn said, still glaring at Sue. "Tell us about this treasure. Tell us what we need to know or I swear to God…"

"This is over!" Sue said, throwing the envelope back at Quinn. "It's been done, it was done years ago. You need to walk away. You're better than this."

"But you're not!" Quinn said. "You're not better—you—do you know how this has been haunting me? Do you know that I think about it every day, what might have been?" Her chest was heaving and she looked like she was about to cry. Santana chanced a look at Puck, who seemed as shocked as she did. Brittany was just staring.

"Ladies," Sue said in a pained voice. "And gentleman. Would you give us a moment?"

"No," Santana said, looking at Quinn. "No, I want to know what the hell is going on."

Sue took a deep breath. "Quinn and I have to discuss something privately, it won't take long—"

"Get out!" Quinn shouted suddenly. Santana looked at her with wide eyes. "Santana, just get out of here."

"But Quinn—"

"Please," Quinn said, and her lip began to tremble. Brittany was the first to turn to the door and slip outside; Puck followed close behind her. Santana took one last look at Quinn and then brought up the rear. As soon as she'd left, Quinn slammed the door behind her.

"What the…?" She looked at Puck and Brittany's startled faces. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Puck said. "I really…I don't know what that could be."

"Don't you know?" Brittany asked. "She must have mentioned something…some kind of fight they had, maybe, when you used to live with her."

"I never knew any of this was going on," Santana said, and even as she said it, she felt bad. She'd been so caught up in getting to Port Lima, in bringing Quinn with her, that she hadn't even realized that something was going on right under her nose. "Do you think it's safe to leave her in there?"

"I think so," Puck said. "Sue looked like she was really freaked out. Besides, I don't think it would be safe for _us _to try and go in there right now."

"True," Santana said with a sigh. She could hear the muffled sounds of yelling through the door and she wandered down the hall, not wanting to eavesdrop despite her curiosity. She took a seat on the stairs and Brittany sat down beside her. Puck paced back and forth on the landing.

"Do you think she really knows what kind of treasure we're talking about?" Puck asked. "Or could she be bluffing?"

"There's no reason for her to bluff," Santana said. "God, I wish she would just tell me! She's such a horrid bitch."

"We just need to put up with her until we can get what we need," Puck said. "Just try not to piss her off."

"She must have sources," Santana said. "Maybe we can find, like, a book or something…"

"Well, it won't do us any good unless it can lead us to Blaine," Puck said. Santana rested her chin in her hands and said nothing. Beside her, Brittany was fidgeting.

"Can you get this off?" she said finally, tugging anxiously at her bandages. "Please, it's just—it's so itchy."

Santana reached for Brittany's hand and took it in both of her own. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Brittany bit her lip and shook her head worriedly. "I just…I don't know, I'm scared…"

"It's alright," Santana said, reaching for the end of the bandage. "It's going to be alright."

"I hate when people yell," she said, quietly so that Puck wouldn't hear. Santana ran her fingers across Brittany's wrist as she unwound the gauze.

"Quinn can take care of herself," she said, her heart swelling at the way that Brittany cared so much for her crewmates. "Don't worry. I'm right here." She pulled off the bandage and Brittany gingerly clenched her fist. "How does it feel?"

"Just stiff," Brittany said, opening and closing her hand. "But it doesn't hurt."

"Good," Santana said. "We can double check with Mike later, but I think you're probably healed." She looked up and made sure that Puck was facing away from them before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Brittany's cheek.

They continued to wait in nervous silence as the shouting died down. The sounds of voices could no longer be heard through the door, and Santana wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing. "Maybe we should check on them," Puck said uncertainly. "We can knock or something…"

"I don't think so," Santana said. "Quinn's trying to convince her to help us out, we don't want to ruin any progress she's making."

"But what if she needs us?" Brittany asked quietly.

"She'll be fine," Santana replied.

Even though she said the words, she still felt uneasy, and it was a great relief to her when the door finally opened. Santana hoped to see Quinn on the other side, but it was Sue's head that popped out to greet them. "Where is she?" Puck asked immediately.

"She's still in here, idiot, where would she have gone?" Sue said. She looked at Santana. "Quinn and I would like you to come inside."

Santana stood up immediately. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Are you going to tell us what's going on between you guys?"

"No," Sue replied. "No, I am not. I didn't want to but Quinn insisted so…" She sighed. "I'm going to tell you about the Elixir of Life."

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**A/N: Bad news y'all...I'm going on a class trip next week! So I won't be able to update until I get back. Hopefully the next update will come on Monday, June 4 and until then...enjoy! Thank you so much for all the reviews and support for this story. I'm glad to hear people are enjoying it.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: The Elixir of Life**

Sue took her time in starting her story.

Santana had taken the chair next to Quinn on the other side of Sue's desk, and Puck was standing behind them with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. Brittany was pacing nervously around the room and Santana tried to catch her eye, hoping that Brittany would come and share her seat. But Brittany was either oblivious or ignoring her, and she wandered over to the bookshelf against the side wall. She seemed to be the only person not dying to hear what Sue had to say—Quinn and Puck were pretty much holding their breath.

"The Elixir of Life," Sue began finally, "is an old myth. One of the oldest, actually. I'm sure that all of you have heard some version of it."

"I've never heard of it," Quinn said.

"You probably know it by a different name. Substances that can create, extend, or preserve life have been heavily sought after for thousands of years. You may have heard stories about the Fountain of Youth, the Philosopher's stone—it's all the same. They make you immortal."

"I thought the Philosopher's stone was only supposed to turn things into gold," Santana said. David Martinez had always been a big believer in the stone, and he'd once told her that it would make them infinitely rich. But he'd never mentioned that it would make them live forever.

"The stone also has some unique alchemical properties, according to legend, anyway," Sue said. "Some say that all the elements—those elements being earth, water, fire, and air, of course—derive from the one element of the Philosopher's stone."

"The point," Quinn said, "is that it's a myth created to give credence to all their weird ideas. Like, 'Oh, I wish I had an endless rum fountain—I bet it's in the Philosopher's stone!' 'Want eternal life? Get a Philosopher's stone!' They can't prove any of this, so they just make sure it all exists in some object that they'll never find."

"So you don't believe in it?" Sue asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I know _you _don't," Quinn countered. "This is exactly the reason why you never went after any of this stuff yourself. It's bullshit."

Sue folded her fingers under her chin. "It may be," she said slowly.

Quinn's eyes widened. "You think it's real," she said. "But—but you don't accept anything without proof."

"Well, then maybe I've seen proof," Sue said.

"Can we move on?" Santana asked. "Whether or not Quinn believes any of this is not really the issue." She didn't want to admit it, but she was extremely curious about all of this, and not just because it was an interesting story. She wasn't the type to be scared of ghosts or monsters, but this Elixir of Life was something else. It was a story she'd heard before, in various forms, from her parents and her parents' friends. Quinn wouldn't understand, not having come from a family of pirates. She'd grown up with religious parents who didn't believe in anything other than the power of God. But these kinds of mythical objects—they were what pirates lived for.

"So the various legends fall in and out of favor, kind of like clothes and hats and all that," Sue continued. "In the 16th century, people began to believe that they had found the location of the Fountain of Youth, and they attributed its discovery to the explorer Ponce de Leon."

"I've heard this before," Puck said excitedly, and Santana could tell he was also thinking back to the stories he'd heard as a child pirate. "Wasn't Ponce de Leon the one who was looking for something to fix his junk?"

"Legend has it that he was impotent, yes," Sue said. Puck smirked. "And he may have been trying to find a cure. Whatever he was looking for, the story goes that he stumbled across the Fountain of Youth in the year 1513, when he discovered land in the Americas that he referred to as La Florida."

"It's in Florida? But if they know exactly where it is, that's not much of a myth," Santana said. "Hasn't anybody ever gone looking for it?"

"Of course," Sue said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not done with my story yet."

"Oh." Santana settled back in her chair. "Well, hurry up then. I don't care about Ponce de Leon's balls."

"No, you wouldn't," Puck muttered. Santana resisted the urge to turn around and punch him in the stomach, deciding instead to pretend that she hadn't heard him. There were more important things to think about, after all.

"So, obviously, when all of this word got out, everyone wanted to go find the Fountain of Youth for themselves. And it resulted in the First Pirate War of 1612. I take it you all know about that."

"No," Quinn said, while Santana and Puck both nodded. "I wasn't raised a pirate, remember?"

"Right," Sue said. "Although it wouldn't kill you to do a little studying. The First Pirate War was an extensive struggle that took place in the waters near Florida, mainly between two pirate fleets who wanted to prove their control of the Caribbean. It got bigger as alliances were bought and money changed hands; everyone wanted in on the action. Even the Royal Navy got involved. Captain Hawk thought that his side could win if they found the Fountain of Youth, and they essentially led everyone there. What happened next is one of the bloodiest battles in pirate history."

"I haven't heard about that battle being associated with the Fountain of Youth," Santana said. "Or any part of that war, really."

"Not everyone was in it for the magic," Sue said. "Mostly everyone just saw power changing hands and desperately wanted to be on the right side of it all. But there were enough who believed in the legend to gather at the supposed location of the Fountain, and they practically annihilated each other. Of course, in the process, the Fountain was destroyed."

"But if it was destroyed—"

"You are a _horrible_ listener," Sue snapped at Santana. "You interrupt constantly, I don't know how anyone can stand it. Yes, the Fountain was destroyed. But pirates aren't ones to let go of legends, especially the fun ones. It is said that a young man, fresh across the Atlantic from Britain, determined to prove himself as a soldier of the Royal Navy, was able to save a part of the Elixir from the Fountain. He took it with him and it's been kept hidden from the pirates ever since."

Santana waited until she was sure that Sue had reached a pause in her story, and then said, "That seems a little out there. How are we supposed to believe that _one _guy took a piece of it with him?"

"It does seem a little far-fetched," Sue agreed, "if it weren't for the fact that the legend is actually pretty stuffed with facts. It's so detailed, in fact, that we can trace the location of the Elixir to within ten years ago."

"Eight."

Everyone's heads turned to look at Brittany. She was running her fingers along the spine of one of Sue's books, and she didn't look up at them as she spoke.

"Eight years," she said again. "That's when it was moved from Port Carmel."

"Exactly." Sue turned towards all of them smugly. "Port Carmel has been the rumored location of the Elixir of Life for about the last thirty years. It's supposedly passed down from one governor to the next, and they're in charge of keeping it hidden from the pirates."

"But what's stopping them from just using it?" Santana asked. "I'm sure _someone _was tempted by it."

"Not everyone is as greedy as you are, Lopez," Sue said.

"And they couldn't open it, anyway," Brittany said. She finally moved away from the bookshelf to stand behind Santana's chair. Santana twisted around to look at her. "They didn't have the key."

"How do you know?" Quinn asked.

"Because I found it," Brittany explained. "Well, I mean, my friend found it in his basement. I don't think that my dad ever knew where it was."

"Oftentimes, the protectors of these powerful objects try to separate all the pieces," Sue said. "It makes sense that the young man who rescued a portion of the Elixir would want to make sure that it could never fall into the wrong hands. Otherwise, there might be another war. You said there was a chest?" Brittany nodded. "The chest and the key have probably been kept separately for many years so that no one person could ever access the Elixir."

"Your dad is the governor?" Puck asked. "Of Port Carmel?"

"Was," Brittany corrected. "He—he's dead now."

"Oh," Puck said. "I'm sorry."

"None of this makes sense, though," Quinn said. "I mean, a random chest, a key that Brittany just happened to find, that no one is supposed to know about…how is it possible that nobody else put this together? If everyone knows where the Elixir is, why doesn't someone just take it?"

"But someone _did_ try to take it," Sue said. "In the attack on Port Carmel that killed Governor Pierce."

There was a heavy pause. "You knew my dad?" Brittany asked finally. "I don't think I ever said my name was Pierce." Her voice sounded very small.

"I knew of him," Sue said. "I never knew him personally. Keeping up with pirate skirmishes is something of a hobby of mine."

"How did it happen?" Brittany asked, her voice even quieter. Santana glanced at Sue. She tried to send a message with her eyes that Sue should not tell Brittany, should not indulge her, because there was no telling how Brittany would react. Santana didn't know to what extent Brittany had not gotten over her father's death.

"He was shot," Sue said simply. "By a pirate. Assassinated in his home."

Santana watched carefully as the news played out across Brittany's face. She swallowed hard and then gave a brief nod. Her eyes looked cold.

"We need to decide what to do," Quinn said softly. "Santana, do you honestly think this is worth our time?"

Santana took a deep breath. "It fits," she said. "It fits everything. Brittany's seen the chest. She knows Blaine had her key. If the _Dalton _found what they were looking for with Blaine—and it looks like they have, because they could have easily captured all of us and they didn't—then it seems like this is what they're looking for." She turned to Quinn. "I know you don't believe in this kind of thing. But…"

"Do you believe in it, though?" Quinn said. "Do you really?"

"I don't know," Santana admitted. "I knew a bunch of people who devoted their whole lives to looking for stuff like this."

"Yeah but did you ever see any evidence of it?" Quinn asked. "Did anyone ever find anything?"

"Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean it's not real," Brittany said unexpectedly. "My dad gave his life for this. _He _believed in it. And I trust him." She made eye contact with Santana for the first time. Her gaze was sad but determined.

"No matter whether it's real or not," Puck pointed out, "Blaine is real. And he's been captured and if we want to save him, we've gotta follow this lead." He turned to Santana uncertainly. "I mean, it's all we've got, right?"

Santana nodded. "It is," she said. "It's all we've got."

"Well hold on," Quinn said. "We really don't have much at all. Do we even know where this treasure is? Brittany, you said it was moved—to where?"

"To an island called Tiburon," Brittany said. "But they could have moved it back by now. I got the feeling it was only a temporary fix."

"If we go there and it's not there, we'll just be wasting time," Quinn said. "Once the _Dalton _has the Elixir, they don't need Blaine's help anymore. He's as good as dead."

"He might be already," Puck muttered.

"There's only a handful of people who might know where that chest is, and they're all in the same place," Santana said. "Port Carmel." She turned to Brittany. "You said that Jesse St. James's father became the governor, right?"

"Yeah," Brittany said.

"And Jesse's the one who found the key?" Brittany nodded again. "Good. Then I think that's where we've got to go."

"We're going—home?" Brittany asked. "Now?"

Santana hesitated. Would Brittany be okay with this? Port Carmel was presumably where she'd had most of her happy memories, but it was also full of the people who had abandoned her in her time of need. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go back there. Maybe they could find another way.

"We came back here, even though I didn't want to," Quinn pointed out. There was a challenge in her voice, as though she were daring Santana to give Brittany special treatment. Santana looked up at Brittany and caught her eye. Slowly, Brittany nodded.

"Yeah," Santana said. "We're going to Port Carmel." She tried to look at Brittany reassuringly, to show her that everything would be okay. "We'll just be there for a moment. Hopefully, we can work out a deal and be on our way."

"Well," Sue said. "If that's all, I'd like you all to leave now. The evening crowd is about to come in and this has, quite frankly, been a waste of my time."

"Thank you," Santana said. "I really appreciate it."

Sue looked over at Quinn and her eyes narrowed. Quinn looked away. "It was no trouble," she said coldly. "No trouble at all."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: The new layout is so coooooooool! I'm really into it. Thanks for your reviews, I think you guys will like this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 16: Swimming Under the Stars**

Santana wanted to ask Quinn what had happened between her and Sue, but Quinn left as soon as they were outside the Salmon Shack. She walked quickly down the street, and Santana barely had time to call out to her before she had disappeared into the shadows. Brittany looked at Santana worriedly, but Santana just shrugged.

"I think I'm gonna find a bar," Puck said. "Wanna join?"

"I, uh…" Santana glanced over at Brittany. Going to a bar was tempting, but spending time with Brittany was even more so. "I might have a few things to take care of. It's probably better if you find the guys and go on without me." She tried to look as innocent as possible, hoping Puck wouldn't assume anything. But he didn't comment.

"Alright," he said. "Don't work too hard. We have a lot to do tomorrow." He patted Santana on the shoulder and then turned and headed down the dark street. Santana turned to Brittany.

"So what are we gonna do?" Brittany asked.

Santana smiled, loving that Brittany had seen through her excuse immediately. "Whatever you want," she said. "We can do dinner, hit a bar maybe, go dancing..." She shrugged. "The island is yours. It's not much, though."

Brittany smiled. "I like dancing," she said. "But...I don't drink. I mean I never have."

"We don't have to," Santana said.

"We should stay outside. It's nice and warm."

Santana thought for a moment. "We could go down to the beach," she suggested, her heart staring to beat quickly. She hadn't thought about it before, but the beach was perfect. It was dark and romantic, and they would be all alone.

"Yeah," Brittany said. "Let's do it."

They walked down the main street towards the pier, not really speaking. Santana wanted to ask Brittany how she felt about having to return to Port Carmel, but she didn't want to ruin the moment. There was time to think about that later, when they were in the thick of things. Right now was possibly the last night of break they would have until Blaine was safely returned to them, and it was best to just enjoy it. The uneasy look Brittany had had in Sue's office had been replaced by one of contentment, and Santana was happy to walk in silence.

"Let's go along the sand a little bit so we're not right here with all the ships," Santana said when they had reached the pier.

"Alright." Brittany nodded. They turned off the road and headed down towards the water. "Hold on." Brittany reached over and placed a hand on Santana's shoulder. Santana's breath hitched before she realized that Brittany was just leaning down to take off her boots.

"Good idea," she said. When Brittany finished, she leaned over as well.

"Need to use me for balance?" Brittany asked.

"Nah, I got it." Santana pulled off her boots and wiggled her toes in the sand. Then she started to walk, and Brittany followed her leisurely.

"I love the beach," she said. "It's the best. There's no beach at Port Carmel."

"What do you mean no beach?" Santana asked. She looked over at Brittany. Her boots were dangling from one hand and the hand closest to Santana was free, swinging back and forth as she walked. Santana wondered if she could just reach out and take it.

"Well most of the area by the pier was blocked off by the fort, and there were just long drops into the water," Brittany said. "There was one beach area that fishermen were always using to go in and out and Jesse didn't like it there because it smelled weird. I just didn't like seeing all those dead fishies." Santana could hear the pout in Brittany's voice and she looked over. It was adorable.

"Fish are for eating, though, really," Santana said. "I mean, come on."

Brittany smiled. "Yeah, I like how they taste. It just makes me sad, so I like to imagine that they go to fish heaven when I eat them. It's a place where there are no cats," Brittany explained.

"Do cats like fish?"

"My cats did."

"You had five, right?" Santana shook her head in disbelief. She had never understood why people would want to keep animals for pets. In her experience, they were more trouble than they were worth. But then again, she had never really seen a cat.

"Yeah, I had five," Brittany said. "They were cool. I miss them."

"What were their names?" Santana asked. "Do people name their cats?"

"Of course I named them," Brittany said. "Don't be silly. Bubbles, Benjamin, Bricks, Bashful, and Lord Tubbington. Those were their names."

Santana laughed. "How did you tell them all apart?"

Brittany raised an eyebrow. She looked genuinely confused. "They're all difference cats. What do you mean?"

Santana shrugged. "Don't they all kind of look the same? And all their names start with a B. Except Lord Tubbington."

"They don't look the same to me," Brittany said. "And B is the best letter of the alphabet. I was going to give Lord Tubbington a B name too, but he was always eating. He got so fat. My dad said that he was going to have a heart attack and die but I kept feeding him anyway because it made him so happy."

"That's cute," Santana said. Brittany's free hand kept bumping hers and Santana had just made up her mind to reach out and grab it when Brittany suddenly stopped walking.

"Should we stop here?" she asked. "This seems like a good place."

"Oh." Santana realized that they were already pretty far from the busiest part of the village, and were now at a dark part of the beach that offered quite a bit of privacy. "Yeah okay. Let's stop here." She pulled off her coat—there was no need for it, it was so warm out—and laid it down on the sand. Then she and Brittany sat on top of it, shoulders touching.

"It's so beautiful," Brittany said quietly, looking out at the rolling waves.

"You are," Santana said. Brittany looked at her and she blushed. "Sorry, that was..."

"You're so cute when you blush," Brittany said. "Which is, like, all the time. I wonder if the water's warm?"

"Why don't you go check?" Santana said. She was feeling irritated, mostly with herself—why oh why was she acting like fucking Quinn right now? Brittany was being so cool about everything and Santana was being a total headcase. She forced herself to take several centering breaths as Brittany stood up and rolled up the bottoms of her pants. Santana watched as she walked down to the edge of the dark water and dipped her feet in.

"Ahh!" she screamed, jumping back out. Santana looked at her with wide eyes.

"Is it cold?" she asked, concerned.

"No, I'm just kidding," Brittany said.

"Oh. Not nice."

Brittany walked back into the water and began to wade in until the small waves were almost hitting the cuffs of her breeches. "It's really warm actually. Come on."

Santana hesitated and then pulled herself to her feet, heading for the water. She dipped a toe in. Brittany wasn't lying, it was _really _nice. "I love summer," she said, just as a warm breeze blew across her face. "Hey...wanna swim?"

Brittany looked at her dubiously. "I don't want to get my clothes wet."

"Then take them off," Santana said. Now it was Brittany's turn to blush. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that," Santana said hastily. "Our shirts and underwear will dry pretty quickly, we'll just take our pants off."

Brittany chewed on her lip and then left the water, heading back to the coat. Santana followed her. "I'm not sure," Brittany said. "Maybe we should just go to dinner with everyone else after all."

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," Santana said, although now the idea of swimming in the dark with Brittany was infecting her brain. "We can just sit."

Brittany glanced at the sand and then longingly back at the water. "I mean, you've seen me pants-less before..."

"I have," Santana said with a nod. Just thinking about it started to turn her on, but she forced the thought out of her mind. This was not a big deal. She and her crewmates had gone swimming in various states of undress all the time.

"And besides, it's dark," Brittany continued.

"So dark," Santana said enthusiastically. "I can barely see you right now as it is."

Brittany smirked and took a step towards Santana. "Can you see me now?" she asked. Santana swallowed. At no point was she unable to see Brittany, and she was sure Brittany knew that, but now they were only standing about a foot apart and Santana's breathing was becoming erratic.

"Yeah," she said. "I can see you."

"Good," Brittany said. "I'm just worried that...you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself." She smiled devilishly and Santana practically swooned.

"You can tie them behind my back," she offered, immediately regretting her choice of words because now she was imagining Brittany tying her up and it was doing nothing to help her keep the situation platonic.

Brittany sighed. "I guess that won't be necessary," she said. She reached for the button on her pants and Santana smiled victoriously.

"We're going in?"

"Yeah, we're going in," Brittany said. "But if it gets cold, I'm gonna be really mad at you."

"Don't worry, it won't get cold if we keep moving," Santana said excitedly. She tried not to stare as Brittany slid out of her pants, instead focusing on getting her own clothes off. She took off her shirt as well, standing only in her bra and underwear, knowing that Brittany was not likely to follow her lead. Brittany kept her oversized button-down on, but she still looked hot as Santana finally looked up at her. Those goddamned legs. Again. And unless she was imagining it, she could have sworn Brittany's eyes raked over her half-naked body approvingly.

"Come on, let's go," Brittany said, turning and running towards the water. Santana followed her, their feet splashing as they went deeper and deeper.

"You can swim, right?" Santana asked.

"Who grows up in the Caribbean and doesn't know how to swim?" Brittany shot back.

"True," Santana said. She leaned forward and swan-dived into the water, letting it run through her hair. It had been a while since she'd washed it out and it felt amazing. She came back up and floated lazily on her back, watching as Brittany splashed around in the water next to her.

"This is awesome," Brittany said. "I haven't gotten to go swimming in such a long time."

"It's just getting warm enough for it, too," Santana said. "I mean, it was warm during the day, but night swims are always the best."

"They are kind of magical," Brittany agreed. "Look at the stars! They're so pretty."

"Yeah, they are," Santana said, staring up at the sky. "Look, you can see the North Star." She pointed upwards and Brittany followed her finger. "Whenever we get really lost, we use that."

"But you have a compass, don't you?" Brittany asked.

"We do," Santana said. "But sometimes we don't know where we want to go, so we just line ourselves up with the North Star and sail in that direction. Then we eventually stumble across something cool."

"I want to do that," Brittany said.

"You can," Santana replied. "After we get through all this drama, I mean."

"You really mean it?" Brittany asked. Santana could hear the smile in her voice.

"Of course," she said. "Tell you what. After we get Blaine back, I'll lock up my compass and you can close your eyes and spin in a circle and point. And we'll go whichever way you land on."

"What if we get hungry?" Brittany asked.

"We'll stock up on food."

"And if we run out?"

Santana laughed. "That's part of the fun," she said. "There's always somewhere to stop, or someone to trade with. It's how I met you, remember?"

"Of course," Brittany said.

"I like to wander," Santana said thoughtfully.

There were several minutes of silence as they gazed up at the stars. Santana could hear the gentle sounds of splashing as Brittany swam quietly back and forth in the water. She closed her eyes and let the sound, the reminder of Brittany's closeness, calm her. If it weren't for the possibility of drowning, she could seriously just go to sleep.

"Oh my God something just touched my foot!" Brittany shrieked suddenly. She swam towards Santana as fast as she could. "It was gross!"

"It's probably just a shark," Santana said with a laugh. She let her legs drop to the ocean floor and stood with her head bobbing above the surface of the water. "Don't worry."

"Santana," Brittany whined, moving right next to her. "That's not funny."

"Sorry," Santana replied, just as something slimy and wet grazed the edge of her foot. It must have hit Brittany too, because next thing she knew, Brittany's arms were around her neck.

"Ohmygawd it's following me!"

"It's definitely just a little fish," Santana assured her. "Don't worry." She realized that Brittany had lifted her legs off the ocean floor and was now wrapping them loosely around Santana's waist. Santana knew she was just trying to get away from whatever was swimming beneath them, but being pressed up against each other had just kick-started the feelings that Santana had just managed to repress. "Brittany," she said quietly, hoping to draw attention to their intimate situation.

Brittany turned to look down at Santana and lifted a hand to brush her wet hair out of her eyes. "Hey," she said lightly, their noses practically touching. "Do you think it's gone?"

"I think I scared it away," Santana replied.

"Good." Brittany grinned. "My hero." Then she leaned down and kissed Santana on the lips.

Santana was taken completely by surprise. It took several moments before she was cognizant enough to reach up and wrap her arms tightly around Brittany's waist. Brittany wasn't making any moves to deepen the kiss, but she wasn't pulling away either, and Santana flicked her tongue out to run it across Brittany's bottom lip. It tasted like the sea.

"Bad," Brittany whispered, pulling away. "You said you'd keep your hands to yourself."

"You're the one who jumped on me!" Santana said indignantly as Brittany let go of her, cackling. "Oh come on."

"I never said _I _would keep my hands to myself," she said. "Come on, let's find that fish. I want to name him." She started to swim away and Santana stared after her.

"You're not even scared of fish, are you?" Santana gasped. "Oh my God. You're the worst." Brittany just laughed. "Seriously, I'm gonna get you back for this." She dunked her head underwater, hoping that it would do something to cool her off.

Clearly, this was only the beginning of the sexual frustration.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Setting Sail**

Santana awoke at dawn to the sight of Brittany sleeping in the sand beside her, wrapped up in her coat with her face buried in her arms. She remembered their kiss the night before and her stomach flipped. Brittany had only been with them for about a week, but Santana already couldn't imagine what life would be like without her. She would have loved to lie there all morning, watching Brittany sleep, but they would have to start sailing soon, and the last thing she wanted was for the crew to come looking for her. After about a minute, she reached over and gently placed her hand on the top of Brittany's head.

"Hey Britt," she said gently. "Wake up."

Brittany stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at Santana groggily and then lifted her face from the coat, smiling. "Hi," she whispered. "Good morning."

Santana sat up and shook sand out of her hair. "I can't believe we fell asleep out here," she said.

"I know, me neither," Brittany replied. "I can't remember the last time I slept somewhere that wasn't a ship. I wish we could stay longer."

"Yeah." Santana reached over to the ground next to her, where she had laid out Brittany's shirt to dry. "It's still a little damp," she said, picking it up and shaking out the sand. "But the sun's about to come out, anyway, it'll dry you off."

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Brittany said, taking the shirt from Santana.

She began to unbutton her coat and Santana turned away respectfully while Brittany got dressed. She looked down the shoreline to the pier, where she could make out the _McKinley _floating up and down with the tide. There was movement on the deck and she hoped it meant that her crew was getting ready to leave.

"So what's the plan?" Brittany asked. Santana turned around to see her fully clothed and combing out her hair with her fingers. "Are we going straight to Port Carmel?"

Santana nodded. "If you're ready for it."

"I want to help you guys find Blaine," Brittany said. "I'll do whatever it takes."

They put on their boots and walked slowly back to the ship, brushing sand off of themselves as they went. Most of the crew was already awake and on deck, anticipating Santana's orders. They looked serious as she gave them a much abridged version of what Sue had told her and instructed them set sail immediately. "I'm going to chart our course right now," she said. "I'll come back with the coordinates."

Santana glanced over to Quinn, who was looking down at the deck with bloodshot eyes, before heading towards her cabin. To her surprise, Brittany followed her. They went inside and Santana turned around. "Hey. What's up?"

Brittany sat down at Santana's desk and tucked her hands behind her back. "I did something bad," she said.

Santana immediately became concerned. "Bad? What do you mean?"

"I took something." Brittany sighed and then lifted her right arm. Clutched in her hand was an old, leather-bound book. The outside of the pages looked yellow and worn, and the gold writing on the front was so faded that Santana couldn't make it out.

Not that it would have mattered. "Where did you get it?" she asked.

"From Sue Sylvester's shack," Brittany said sheepishly. "It's, um, a book that my mom used to have. My dad gave it to me when I was little." She looked down at it and traced her fingers longingly across the cover. "I shouldn't have taken it..."

"I doubt she'll miss it," Santana assured her, "and even if she does, who cares?" She paused and then asked, "What book is it?"

"_Macbeth_ by William Shakespeare."

"Oh."

"Have you heard of it?"

She'd heard of Shakespeare. She couldn't name a single work, though. "Of course I've heard of it," she said. "Who hasn't?"

Brittany flipped slowly through the fragile pages, pausing every now and then to read a few lines. "My dad used to read this to me before I went to bed," she said. "He read me the history plays first to try and teach me, but I got bored, and then he read the comedies, but I didn't understand them. But I liked _Macbeth_. 'Cause it was my mom's. And also because of the witches."

"You like witches?"

"Not real ones," Brittany clarified. "Only the stories." She hesitated and then placed her book on Santana's desk. "I still feel like a thief."

"Not thief," Santana corrected. "Pirate."

Brittany smiled. "Right. Well then, I guess I should hand this over to you," she said. "Isn't that the rule? We give the loot to the captain?"

"You don't have to-" Santana began.

"I want you to keep it," Brittany said. "I've read it already."

Santana bit her lip. "Okay."

"I might come visit it, though."

"Visit the book or visit me?"

Brittany smirked. "Maybe a little bit of both. It depends."

Santana smiled, overcome with a sudden desire to kiss Brittany. However, it seemed unprofessional, given that she had something to be doing. "Can you find Port Carmel on my map?" she asked.

"Sure." Brittany spun around in her chair and scanned the worn map for several moments. "Right here," she said, placing her finger on the paper. "Where are we?"

Santana leaned over Brittany's shoulder and pointed out their location. "We're here," she said. "So this is probably a couple of days away. Maybe a week. It just depends on the wind patterns."

"Oh," Brittany said. "Alright."

Santana patted Brittany's shoulder. "Outta my way," she said. "I have to draw our course. And you probably have work to do."

"Yeah, probably," Brittany said, getting up from the chair. "I'll talk to you later. Enjoy the book."

"I will," Santana said. "And, well…keep an eye on Quinn, okay? I think meeting with Sue may not have been the best thing for her."

Brittany nodded sympathetically. "I'll watch her," she promised. She left the cabin and then came back in. "Rachel's outside and she wants to talk to you."

"Tell her she can come in," Santana said. Brittany disappeared and Rachel came in a moment later. She closed the door softly behind her and Santana turned her chair around so that she could face her guest at the door. "You better not have ended up here by mistake _again_," she said. "Although we're probably close enough that you can swim back to shore if you need to."

"No," Rachel said. "I—I decided to stay here. If that's okay with you."

Santana shrugged. "As long as you don't get in my way, I don't care what you do," she said. "The crew might not be as kind, however. They'll probably want you on the watch schedule."

"I can deal with that," Rachel said earnestly. "I just don't think Cheerio Island is a good place for me to get off."

"It's pretty bad," Santana said, "but hey, I lived here for a little bit. It grows on you."

"I'm sure it does," Rachel said. She played with her sleeve and Santana looked at her curiously.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" Santana asked. "That you're staying? Since when have you asked my permission for anything?"

Rachel shrugged. "I just wanted to be sure."

"Okay," Santana said slowly. "And what happened to all that talk about how you get seasick and how you wanted to go home? You could get back much faster if you got a ship from here to Port Lima."

"I know," Rachel said.

Santana sighed when Rachel didn't elaborate. She could tell Rachel wanted to talk about her reason for staying, but she was waiting to be asked. "Is this…about Finn?"

"Maybe," Rachel said. "Well, yes, but it's not what you think. I'm still not sure how I feel."

Santana turned back to her map and picked up her pencil. "Well, do whatever you want, I guess," she said. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

"You've known him for a long time, though," Rachel pressed. "Is he…I mean, do you think…"

"Do I think he'd make a good boyfriend? I really can't say." Santana picked up a ruler and began to draw a line to Port Carmel. "I've never seen him with anyone before."

"But he's a nice guy, right?"

"Sure, he's fine." Santana wasn't all that interested in talking about her crew, and she wasn't sure why Rachel was so insistent. "The others would probably know better, why don't you talk to them?"

"They might tell him that I asked," Rachel said. "And I know you won't because you don't care."

"True," Santana said. "But I'm pretty busy right now…"

"I realize that, I'm sorry," Rachel said. "I'll go now." She started to head to the door and then stopped. "You and Quinn used to live here together, right?"

"Yeah," Santana said.

"Were the two of you ever…you know…"

Santana snorted. "You too? Do Quinn and I give off vibes or something? We're just friends."

"Oh." Rachel frowned. "I mean, you're close though, right?"

"She's my best friend."

"And she's a good person?"

Santana turned away from her work and looked up at Rachel in surprise. She was blushing and refusing to make eye contact. "Quinn is the best," Santana said seriously. "She would take good care of you."

Rachel turned even redder. "Okay," she said to the wall. "I'll leave you to finish your work, then."

Santana bit back a smirk. "Good talk, Rachel."

* * *

Santana's head hurt as she stared down at the first page of _Macbeth_. This shouldn't be hard, really, little kids could do this. Brittany could do this. Santana could run a ship and find treasure and hit a target with a knife from fifty feet away. Why couldn't she extrapolate meaning from a bunch of stupid words? They were right there on the page. Put them in your head, Lopez. Try to _understand._

The cabin door opened and Puck stuck his head inside. "Yo Santana," he said. "The sky is looking a little icky. Lots of clouds."

"You think it's gonna rain?" Santana quickly closed the book and tried to slip it under her pillow. "We have some boxes of rice on deck, let's put them inside the galley."

"Are you reading?"

"Huh?" Santana blushed and adjusted her pillows so that _Macbeth _was completely covered. "No, I'm not reading."

"Then what was that?" He motioned towards the bed. "You were looking at a book."

"It's, like, maps and stuff," Santana said. "It's one of Schuester's books." She motioned feebly towards the desk. Schue _had _left some boring books about geography in there, not that Santana had ever wanted to look at them. Puck narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Okay," he said. "Is it interesting?"

"Not really," Santana said. "I'm just trying to, you know, study up."

"Good." Puck paused. Then, without warning, he leapt across the room and onto the bed, sliding his arm under the pillow before Santana even knew what was happening. She came to her senses quickly enough to pin him down, leaning over onto his back so that he couldn't move. "Ugh, get off! I've got the book in my hand already."

"So?" Santana dug her elbow into his lungs, cutting off his air supply. "It's my book, go away."

"I—just wanna—see," Puck choked out. Santana got up. "Geez," he gasped. "Overreaction much? It's not like you could beat me in a fight, anyway." He pulled the book out and started to look at it. Santana tried to snatch it out of his hand.

"Give it back."

"You're gonna break it if you keep trying to steal it," Puck said, holding it out of Santana's reach. He squinted at the faded title. "What's it called?"

"_Macbeth_."

"This dude's got a long name," Puck said. "Sha…Shake…"

"Shakespeare," Santana said.

Puck raised his eyebrows. "Alright. Impressive. What is it about?"

"Um. Witches."

He nodded. "Interesting…what else?" He still looked highly suspicious. Santana wanted to kick him out of the cabin, but couldn't think of a good excuse that wouldn't have him questioning her intelligence.

"I just started it," Santana said evasively.

Puck tossed the book back to Santana, who didn't quite react quickly enough. It hit her square in the forehead. "Read it to me."

"Ouch!" Santana exclaimed. "You're really pissing me off, Puck. Why are you even here?"

"I just wanna see if you can read it," Puck said, shrugging. Santana rolled her eyes and opened the book to the first page.

"Fine. I'll read it," she said. She looked down at the first lines of text. S-C-E-N-E. She had no idea what that word sounded like or what it meant. So she skipped it. "F...First. Wit. Wit-kuh. Wit...witch." She looked up at Puck. "Sorry. First Witch."

"Alright, yeah, I got that," Puck said condescendingly. "What does she do?"

Santana glared down at the pages. "When. Sh...shall. We. Three. Meet." She swallowed hard. "A. Gain. In..." She looked up at Puck, who was looking back smugly. Santana narrowed her eyes and looked back down at the page. "In...in the rum cellar, with the food, and beef steaks, and soup." Santana began to improvise, hoping Puck wouldn't see through it. "The witches met up with their best friend, uh, Lord Tubbington, and he...and they..."

"That's not what it says," Puck said.

"Does too," Santana replied. "What, have you read it before?"

Puck looked at the book distastefully. "No," he admitted finally. "You know I can't read."

"Well," Santana said. "That's what it says. And I'd kind of like to find out what happens next, so if you don't mind..."

"Alright, whatever," Puck said. "I'll leave you alone to 'read' your book."

"Thank you," Santana said, leaning back on the pillows. "It's very good." Puck rolled his eyes. "The annoying bastard in his yellowed shirt left the room," she pretended to read as Puck headed for the door.

"I hope the annoying bastard kills the witch and leaves her body for the birds," Puck snapped, giving Santana a long, suspicious glare before he departed. Santana just smirked.

Once he was gone, though, she looked at the pages with a frown. This was a serious problem. Half the words were indecipherable, and even when she could read them, they didn't make sense. She wasn't sure how this book had made any sense to Brittany as a child. People didn't _talk _like that. It didn't make sense. She tossed the book aside and curled up, hoping to get in a quick nap before the bell rang to signal the shift change.

It wasn't long, however, before her door opened yet again. This time, however, the visitor was very welcome. "Hey Santana," Brittany said. "Can I sit with you for a little bit? I'm on break."

"Of course," Santana said quickly, sitting up. She patted the mattress beside her.

Brittany looked down at the bed. "Oh good, you're reading my book!" she said happily. "Do you like it so far?"

"Um," Santana began.

"The beginning is my favorite part, it's so spooky. Did you get scared? Don't worry if you got scared, I remember being scared the first time. I like being scared though. It's so fun. Which witch did you like the best?"

"I, uh, I liked..." Santana looked up at Brittany's sweet little face. Lying to Puck was one thing—hell, Puck _should _be lied to, he was so fucking annoying—but Brittany just looked so earnest and excited that Santana couldn't bring herself to make up an answer. "I didn't actually read it," she said with a sigh.

Brittany's face fell. "Oh. Well you don't have to. I know some people don't like Shakespeare, it's okay."

"No, it's—he's fine, there's nothing wrong with him," Santana said. "It's not that I don't want to read this, it's just...I can't."

"Why?" Brittany asked, confused. "Is it too scary for you? Did someone tell you not to read it? My cat told me to stay away from _King Lear._"

"No, it's not just this…wait, your cat?"

"Yeah, I don't know what his problem was. But he was pretty serious about it so I decided to listen to him."

"Oh. Okay." Santana shook her head. Could cats talk? She was pretty sure they couldn't.

"Anyway, what were you saying" Brittany asked.

"Oh." Santana scowled. She _really _didn't want to have to admit this. "I was saying…I can't read any book, unless it doesn't have that many words and they aren't complicated because…" Santana looked down at her hands. Her face felt hot enough to light the walls on fire. "Because I can't read."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Macbeth**

Peg Legs was drunk, Finn was getting there, so Santana offered Sam a cigar. The four of them found a nice little spot in the hull by one of the cannons, where they could wave the smoke out of the little hole in the hull wall. There was a cold wind blowing in at them, and Santana leaned into it eagerly, trying to cool off her face.

"This is the first time you've hung out with us since you became Captain," Sam said, taking a long drag.

"I've been busy," she replied with a shrug.

"Bad day?" Finn took a gulp of rum. "We've all had one."

"Perhaps."

It hadn't been a _bad _day, exactly, but Santana needed a good smoke with the guys after almost crying in Brittany's arms for like an hour. She felt like such a sissy. Why did it even matter that she couldn't read? It had never bothered her before. Her parents had taught her which sounds letters made and she sounded out a couple names on a map, but that was it. And that was all the reading that had ever been necessary, so…why did she care so much?

"These are good," Sam said, waving his cigarette in the air.

"Do you read?" she asked. She really should just let it go, but she couldn't. "Any of you, can you read?"

"Not a word," Artie mumbled.

"Maybe," Finn said, "but I never have to. I bet I could do it, though. I bet I'd be really, really good."

"I think I used to read when I was little," Sam said. "But not anymore."

"Where are you all from, anyway? Were you raised pirates?" She needed to know if anyone's parents had taught them how, or if they'd all been too busy like her own.

"Wow, nice of you to take an interest in your crew for once," Sam said. He smiled to show he was teasing.

"Like I said, I've been busy. And I am interested. I know about those two," she pointed at Finn and Artie, "Peg Legs was a stable boy until his accident and Finn was an orphan."

"That's true," Finn said. "And I used to milk cows."

"That's pretty cool," Sam said. "I like cows. They're such sweet animals."

"Then when they got older, I killed them and chopped them into beef steaks for a restaurant down the road."

"Okay." Sam looked down sadly. "I mean, I guess it had to be done."

Finn shrugged and took another swig, splashing his shirt with rum. "I guess so."

"Don't waste that, Gorilla man, it's the only rum we've got." Santana shook her head at Finn's sloppiness. "What about you, though, Evans? Where are you from?"

"Far away." Sam smiled. "South Carolina."

"South Carolina?" Santana's eyes widened. "Wow, that is pretty far."

Sam nodded. "I grew up in Charles Town. Little brother and sister. We were really poor."

"You didn't have slaves?" Santana asked. "That's all I know from the stories of South Carolina. That everyone has slaves."

"A lot of people did," Sam said. "They have big plantations and they need people to work for them. But not us. My mother ran a business where she sewed people's clothes, and my father and I chopped lumber. We basically waited around for people to need our services, and then we got to eat."

"Where is South Carolina?" Finn asked. "Is it near Port Lima?"

"It's not even in the Caribbean," Sam replied. "It's north. In the mainland of America."

"Oh." Finn's eyes got wide. "Wow."

"He probably doesn't even know where that is," Santana muttered. "Anyway, how did you end up all the way down here?"

"I stole some money," Sam said. "A lot of money, actually. From this rich, mean guy who lived in my neighborhood. He found out, so to protect my family, I made a run for it with one of his slaves."

"Really?" Santana looked at Sam in surprise. That sounded like a pretty incredible story, and she was shocked that she'd never bothered to hear it before.

Sam smiled his usual, huge smile. "It was fun," he said. "The slave's name was Wade. He became my best friend. We ran all the way down to Florida and got on a boat to come to the Caribbean. I decided to work on the first ship I found, which happened to be you guys. He wasn't so big on the idea so…he got a job at a brothel."

"A brothel?" Santana looked at him, nonplussed. "Why would a guy want a job there?"

"It was a special kind of brothel," Sam said. "Where guys dressed up as chicks. I worked there with him, actually, for a day…"

"You dressed up as a chick?" Finn spluttered. "Dude. What?"

"Oh shut up, Hudson, he's more man than you are," Santana said.

"It wasn't even that bad," Sam said, "it was sort of cool, actually. We had stage names, too: Wade was Unique, I was Esmerelda." He laughed. "But then there was the having sex for money part of the job, which I wasn't down with. Wade was, though." Sam shrugged. "He said that after sixteen years of oppression, he was finally getting to express himself."

"I suppose that makes sense," Santana said. "That's crazy, I can't believe you came here all the way from South Carolina."

"It was a long trip," Sam agreed. "I'm not the one who's traveled the farthest, though. Quinn is originally from Pennsylvania."

Santana dropped her cigar to the ground. "She is?"

"Yeah, you didn't know that?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow. "I thought you guys were best friends."

"We were—I mean, we are," Santana said. "I just never knew…she didn't mention she came all the way from Pennsylvania. She talked about her family but implied they lived nearby."

Sam shook his head. "No," he said. "They don't live nearby at all. She left home when she was thirteen."

"Oh." Santana blinked hard. "Geez." She was going to have to talk to Quinn about that sometime.

Finn finished off his bottle and slumped against the box behind him. "You guys," he whined. "I have to tell you something."

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm in love with Rachel."

"Oh God," Santana muttered. _This _was the reason she never hung out with the guys anymore; she hated when the rum caused them to start compulsively confessing. "Well, get over yourself, Hudson, this isn't a tragedy."

"But I don't know if she likes me back!" he protested.

"She stayed here, didn't she?" Sam said. "Wasn't she going to get off at Cheerio Island?"

"Yeah, but how do I know she stayed for me?"

"You're a pussy, Finn," Artie said, surprising Santana; she had almost forgotten he was there. His eyes were closed and he looked almost passed out. "Just…do it…"

"Do what?" Finn asked.

"Like, talk to her or something," Sam said when Artie didn't continue. "Make her tell you if she feels the same way."

"I did talk to her, and she said she doesn't know!"

"This is ridiculous," Santana said. "I can't deal with this right now."

"What would you do?" Finn asked her desperately. "If you liked a girl and you didn't know if she liked you back."

Truthfully, Santana would probably be acting just as lame as Finn was acting right now. But luckily, she didn't have that problem. "I don't know," she said. "All I know is that getting drunk down here is probably not the best idea."

"You need to just go for it!" Artie slurred.

"Go for it…yeah, maybe…" Finn looked troubled. Over their heads, they heard the faint clanging of a bell. "I think it's time for the first watch to start…or something…" He began to stagger to his feet.

"Ugh," Santana said. "I hope you're not on watch, you need to get to bed. All of you." She stubbed out her cigar on the ground and tossed it through the window into the sea.

"Thanks for hanging out with us, Santana," Sam said. "It was fun."

"Fun isn't exactly the first word that comes to mind," Santana replied. Then she looked at Sam's pout and mussed his hair quickly. "It was interesting. I'll see you guys in the morning."

"See ya," Finn said miserably.

Santana climbed up to the deck and went over to her cabin, nodding hello at Mercedes and Kurt as they prepared to take the first watch. She went inside and nearly jumped out of her skin as she saw Brittany sitting at her desk. "Jesus!" she said. "You scared me!"

"I'm sorry," Brittany said genuinely. "I know I keep popping into your cabin, but like… I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Santana blushed hard. "I'm fine," she mumbled. "Completely fine. I don't know why I was acting so weird earlier."

"You weren't acting weird," Brittany said. "You were acting sweet."

"Hmph." Santana sat on the edge of her bed and unlaced her boots. "I don't even care, really. I can read little words and I don't really need anything else."

"True," Brittany said, "but I can understand why it would bother you."

"Oh yeah?" Santana slid out of her pants, no longer having any qualms about undressing in front of Brittany. She crawled up to the head of the bed and lay down on the pillow. "Why would it bother me?"

"Because you're Captain Santana Lopez," Brittany said with a smile. "Future Queen of England, scourge of the high seas. You're going to be a legend someday. And you're mad because there's one thing you just can't do, and you think you should be able to do it."

Santana didn't speak for a long time. Brittany had a good point. "Maybe…"

"Santana, if nobody ever taught you to read, then of course you don't know how," Brittany said gently. "It's not like anyone is smarter than you. It's just something we picked up as kids, we don't even remember learning it."

"Well if kids can learn it, I should be able to," Santana said, picking at a string on her blanket. "I know what sounds the letters make for God's sake. I just can't put them together sometimes."

"You haven't even given yourself a chance," Brittany said.

Santana closed her eyes and buried her face in the pillow. "Whatever."

"Would you like to know what happens?"

Santana moved so that one eye was looking at Brittany. "What?"

"In the story." Brittany picked up the book off Santana's desk and waved it in the air. "I can read it to you."

"Oh." Santana thought for a while. There was nothing pathetic about letting Brittany read to her, right? "If you really want to."

Brittany smiled eagerly. "I do," she said. She kicked her boots off and jumped onto the bed. "Pass me that candle," she said.

Santana turned over and took the candle off her bedside table, passing it to Brittany. Brittany set it down on the other side and propped herself up against the pillows. She opened the book to the first page and looked down at Santana.

"Relax," she said, running her fingers across the tops of Santana's head. "I want you to learn something from me, for a change."

Santana hid her smile in the blankets as goosebumps formed on the back of her neck. "I'm only doing this for you," she said. "I don't need to be read to."

"Whatever you say," Brittany replied. She cleared her throat. "Okay, here it goes. Scene one. First Witch. When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? Second Witch…"

Santana closed her eyes and basked in the sound of Brittany's soothing voice.

* * *

Santana woke up to the feeling of being rocked far more than usual. She gazed groggily around her cabin and listened to the sound of waves splashing the side of the ship. Puck had obviously been right about the weather—it seemed like a storm was bound to start up soon. She rolled over and her hand hit a body.

A body.

Shit. Santana's first thought was that Quinn had finally killed Finn and put him in bed with her; which she realized, as she began to wake up a little more, was not a reasonable theory at all. The person's face was tucked under the blankets but there was a mess of blond hair sticking out of the top. Santana reached over and gently placed her hand on the head. It started to move.

"Ugh—Tubbers. Get off," came a mumble from within the blankets, and a moment later, Brittany's sleepy face emerged. She blinked several times as she looked at Santana. "Oh. Whoops."

"Good morning," Santana said, already loving the feeling of waking up next to Brittany for the second day in a row.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," Brittany said apologetically. "I was just resting my eyes..."

"It's okay," Santana said. She reached over and brushed a clump of hair out of Brittany's face.

"Did you like the story last night? I'm sorry that it put you to sleep. I've been told I'm terrible at reading out loud."

"No, you're not," Santana said. "I loved it. I was just exhausted." She propped her head up on her elbow and looked down at Brittany. "And you're welcome to sleep here any time."

Brittany blushed deeply—Santana could see it clearly spreading all the way up to her hair. It was adorable. "You look really pretty in the morning," she said.

Santana almost scoffed, but she thought it might ruin the moment. "Don't lie. I bet my hair looks ridiculous."

"It doesn't, it's beautiful," Brittany said.

"This is going to sound totally lame," Santana said, "but no one has ever said that to me before."

"What? That you're beautiful?"

"Yeah."

"That's...ridiculous. You're like the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life."

"You probably haven't seen that many girls, then," Santana said, her heart thudding. "Or, like, you've never looked in a mirror..."

"You're silly," Brittany said. She looked into Santana's eyes longingly and Santana slowly lowered her face, taking Brittany's bottom lip between her own. Brittany parted her lips cautiously and lifted her hand to rest on the back of Santana's head. They kissed for several long seconds, and it was enough to make Santana dizzy.

"We should probably get out of bed," Santana suggested when she pulled away, thinking both of the work that had to be done and the wicked thoughts that she had about being in a bed with Brittany.

"Okay, one more though," she said, surprising Santana by pulling her back down so they could kiss again. "I like kissing you," she whispered.

"I like kissing you, too," Santana whispered back. She forced herself to sit up. "Gotta find my pants…" she muttered. "And you should probably leave first. Make sure nobody is watching you."

"Okay," Brittany said. She pushed the blankets off of her and put her feet on the floor. "How long are we going to keep this a secret, though? I'm not sure we're being very subtle."

"Not too much longer, I promise," Santana said. She got her pants on and began to make the bed. Brittany headed for the door and peeked out.

"Okay, the coast is clear," she said. "I'm gonna make a run for it. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Santana said as Brittany darted dramatically out the door. Santana smiled as it shut behind her. She smoothed out the covers on her bed and then fixed her hair, preparing to go outside looking innocent. It would be bad if the crew discovered that she and Brittany were sleeping together before they even were.

Sleeping in the same bed together, however, was something she could definitely get used to.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: A Brewing Storm**

It was colder outside than it had been for the past few days, and Santana battled against a strong wind as she carried her breakfast over to the railing to where Quinn was sitting. She hadn't talked to her friend since they'd talked to Sue, and Santana was determined to figure out what was wrong with her. When she approached, however, Quinn spoke first.

"Hey," she said, "I'm done moping around and feeling sorry for myself."

"Thank God," Santana replied. "I was getting ready to come over here and smack you."

Quinn smiled wryly. "I guess everyone was pretty fed up with me, huh?"

"Not everyone, just me," Santana said.

"And Rachel."

"What?" Santana looked at Quinn curiously. "What did Rachel say to you?"

"She didn't say anything, that's the whole point," Quinn said. She looked down sadly. "Last night, Finn came into the bunks and he was pretty drunk."

Santana smirked. "I know," she said. "I saw him. He was acting pretty lame."

"Yeah, well, I guess Rachel was into it," Quinn said bitterly, "because he went over to her bed and started kissing her. And she kissed him back."

"What, did you watch this or something?" Santana asked, feeling disgusted. "I told people that I don't want them doing that in the bunks, they can go wherever else they want, but right there it's just…"

"I didn't watch," Quinn said. "They started kissing and then she closed the curtains on their bed. And they were whispering all night." It looked like Quinn was making an incredible effort not to show any emotion, and for the first time, Santana really felt bad for her. "I guess they're, like, a thing now."

"Quinn," Santana said. "Just because she kissed him back doesn't mean…"

"She would have pushed him away if she didn't want it," Quinn said. "She's not timid, she's pretty clear about what she wants."

"He was drunk," Santana continued. "That can't have been a very heartfelt love confession."

"I know what I saw," Quinn said. "I think she feels bad for him or something, I don't know why, he's such a pathetic loser."

"You really like her, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," Quinn said. She sniffed. "We were getting closer these last few days and I just thought…I don't know. I thought I had a chance. We got along so well."

"I'm sure you did," Santana said. "This might not be the end of the world. You just have to show her what she means to you."

"But I don't even know how to do that!" Quinn protested. "And neither do you, really. We've never done this before. Sure, you fooled around with Puck, but he's easier than a whore in a brothel. We don't know how to _court _someone."

"Now wait just a minute," Santana said, suddenly annoyed. "Who says I can't be romantic? I can charm people."

"Oh yeah?" Quinn asked. "Who have you charmed?"

"I—no one, I just mean that I _could_."

"Oh my God," Quinn said. "You and Brittany. Right?"

Santana tried not to blush. "What are you talking about?"

"You guys are together aren't you? Don't lie to me." Quinn looked at Santana searchingly. "Now that I think about it, you two have been hanging out together almost nonstop since we left Cheerio Island. No, before that. Since we left Port Lima, actually."

"We're just friends," Santana protested weakly. "I'm taking care of her…"

"Yeah, because she obviously needs to be taken care of," Quinn said. "Come on, S, I'm your oldest friend. I know when you're lying to me."

Santana groaned and looked away. "Fine," she said. "Yes. Kind of."

"Kind of?" Quinn smiled for the first time. "Come on, I want details."

"We like each other," Santana said, feeling embarrassed. "And we kind of made a deal not to tell anybody about it."

"I'm not just anybody," Quinn said. "Tell me. Have you kissed?"

"Of course," Santana said.

"What else have you guys done?"

"Quinn," Santana said. "I don't really feel comfortable talking about it."

"Oh, come on," Quinn said.

"It's not polite."

"Right," Quinn said. "Because you're _so _proper. I don't need all the dirty details, just a rough picture. Clothes off? Top and bottom?"

"No," Santana said, turning beet red. "It's not like that, we've…we just kissed. We're taking it slow."

Quinn raised her eyebrows. "Wow," she said. "I'm impressed. You're being respectful, I like that."

"Do you?"

"Yeah," Quinn said. "I mean, I also think it's kind of silly, but hey. If it's working for you guys, keep it up. She _is _hot."

"She's also smart and nice and interesting," Santana snapped. "She's not just hot."

"To me she's just hot," Quinn said. "Come on, don't get so worked up. I'm saying I approve."

"Well, thank you," Santana said. "I'm glad I have the Quinn Fabray Seal of Approval."

"You're welcome," Quinn smirked.

"And hey, you'll get your girl, too. Eventually."

"Maybe," Quinn said.

Santana sensed that a change in subject was needed. "Hey, Sam told me you come from Pennsylvania. Why have I never heard this before?"

"Oh." Quinn shrugged. "Yeah, it's true. I left a long time ago."

"Not that long ago."

"As soon as my dad caught me kissing a girl," Quinn said. "That's when I left. If you must know."

"I'm sorry, Quinn," Santana said sympathetically. "It must have been hard."

"They just wanted very different things for me," she replied. "But it didn't matter, anyway. I'm happy here."

There was something about the way that Quinn said it that made Santana think she was lying. But she decided not to press it. After all, Quinn _had _just lost Rachel and she probably wasn't in the mood to go around singing about how great it was to be a pirate.

"What did you say to Sue to get her to talk to us?" she asked. "What was in that envelope?"

Quinn smiled ruefully. "Story for another time."

* * *

Quinn and Kurt were a mess, the wind was blowing hard, and there was a lot to do on deck to prepare for the upcoming storm, both real and metaphorical. But Santana just couldn't focus. She sat idly in her desk chair, thinking about Brittany, until the real thing came into her cabin. "Hey," Santana said. "I'm bored. Do you want to read to me?"

"Maybe later," Brittany said, walking over to the bed. She lay down and looked up at the ceiling. "Everyone outside is really worried," she said.

"I know," Santana replied.

"And I'm just really happy." She looked over at Santana and smiled. "That's horrible, right?"

"No," Santana said. "It's horrible that _I'm _happy, I'm supposed to be the captain."

"I told Puck he should have a party or something to make everyone feel good. But he said no because of the storm. Is there really going to be a storm?"

"I guess so," Santana said. She shrugged. "Weird weather, I guess. It's supposed to be summer."

Brittany shrugged. "Oh well," she said. "No point in worrying about it, since we can't change it."

Santana snorted. "Yeah, tell that to the crew."

"I tried to." Brittany pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "I just can't stop thinking about you," she admitted shyly.

Santana's eyes widened and her heart pounded. "No way. I was thinking about you right before you walked into the room."

"For real?"

"For real," Santana said with a nod.

"Good." Brittany grinned and got up from the bed. She crossed the room and hesitantly sat down on Santana's lap, straddling her. She carefully removed the captain's hat from Santana's head and set it down on the desk beside her. "I'm glad you feel the same way," she said quietly.

Santana gulped. "I definitely do," she whispered back.

Brittany smiled and leaned in. They kissed slowly at first, but it quickly became more heated as Brittany's hands came up to wrap around her neck. Santana's lips parted and she finally, _finally_, slipped her tongue into Brittany's mouth, running it along the edges of her perfect teeth. She felt Brittany's chest contract as she breathed in sharply and moved her hands up to bury her fingers in Santana's hair. She began to massage her scalp as their tongues intertwined.

"Mmm," Santana moaned before she could help herself. She felt Brittany's lips around hers curve into a smile.

She rested her hands lightly on the outside of Brittany's thighs, careful not to go wandering. She didn't want to scare Brittany away from this new territory because holy shit did it feel amazing.

There was a loud crash from outside, followed by the sound of yelling. "Babe," Santana whispered as Brittany pulled away, startled. "There's work to be done outside, we should really..."

"You work harder than the rest of the crew already," Brittany replied. "Let's just do this." Her voice was heavy with arousal and Santana groaned and tossed her head back.

"You're going to be the death of me," she said. Brittany just giggled and moved her hands down to Santana's neck, before drifting lower to finger the collar of her shirt. Santana caught her mouth in another frenzied kiss, and when she pulled away again, Brittany had undone the top button of her shirt.

"You're okay with this?" she asked breathlessly. Santana just nodded. She was _more _than okay with it, but she didn't want to seem too eager. Her hands began to take on a mind of their own and traveled up to snake around Brittany's waist. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and squeezed the fabric so that she would not be tempted to touch anything more intimate. Brittany, on the other hand, seemed to have no qualms as her fingers dipped lower into Santana's shirt and began to rub circles into the sensitive skin there.

"Oh!" Santana gasped as Brittany brushed against the top of one of her breasts. She squirmed in the chair and Brittany shifted on top of her. There was a moment of delicious friction and then...

"Sorry," Brittany choked, jumping up faster than a firecracker. She reached for the side of the desk to steady herself as her legs trembled beneath her. "That was good," she said, nodding her head vigorously. "Really good. I think I'm on deck-cleaning dooby—I mean duty." She started to move towards the door. "I'll be back. I mean, not right away. Obviously, because I have to clean the deck. You'll see me." She pulled open the door and slipped out. "Bye!"

Santana's head was spinning and she was completely taken aback—so much so that she could do nothing but nod feebly as Brittany left the cabin. She waited a moment for Brittany to find a suitable fake task to complete, and then went outside, hoping the air would cool her down.

She rested her back against one of the railings and told herself that they were making good progress. They were, weren't they? Brittany hadn't even wanted to kiss her at first, and now they were definitely kissing. In fact, they had really taken kissing as far as it could go. Santana was enjoying herself way more than she ever had with anyone else, and she was willing to wait—that wasn't the problem. Well, maybe it was a little bit of the problem. But mostly, she was worried that Brittany didn't want her like that. Sure, Karofsky's abuse had definitely hurt her, but how could she be sure that it was the only thing keeping them apart?

"You look pensive," Mercedes said, sitting down on a barrel beside Santana. "What's wrong? This rescue mission is going well, you've done a lot."

"Yeah, it's not that," Santana said. "It's...I don't know. Forget it."

"Nu uh," Mercedes said, "you know I don't just let people mope around." Santana didn't say anything, so Mercedes continued. "Does this have anything to do with Brittany?"

"What do you mean?" Santana asked, immediately defensive. Dammit, if Quinn had told her anything...

"Oh come on, we know what's going on. At least, I do." Mercedes chuckled. "I mean, I saw you guys disappearing into your cabin together not too long ago. What were you doing, talking? Like you were 'talking' with Puck that one time?" She reached over and hit Santana's leg playfully. "Come on, I know you."

"Ugh," Santana said. "Fine. It is about Brittany." She hated how Mercedes was always able to charm information out of people. It was useful when she was checking up on the rest of the crew, but Santana liked to think she was immune to that sort of thing. Before she knew it, though, she was saying, "I'm not sure if she likes me."

"Oh?" Mercedes raised an eyebrow. "But aren't you guys, like, already together?"

"We are," Santana replied, "but I guess not...physically." She struggled to keep the blush off her face, knowing it wasn't very captainly of her to be squeamish about discussing sex.

"Well, it _is _important to have that aspect too," Mercedes said. "But, I mean, you're a hot piece of ass. I'm sure she wants to get all up on that."

"Well she doesn't," Santana replied. "At least not yet. She says that being touched brings up bad memories and we're working on it..." She trailed off. "I'm being selfish aren't I? Of course, it has nothing to do with me."

"But you think it's about you anyway, don't you?" Mercedes said slyly. Santana narrowed her eyes. Mercedes was right. Logically, it _should_ be all because of Karofksy, but she couldn't help but wonder...

"What if she doesn't even know if she wants me or not, because she blames it all on this trauma stuff?" Santana asked. "Like, how would she even know?"

"Okay, first of all, I've seen the way she looks at you," Mercedes said. "She wants you. I'm sure of it. And she's weird but not stupid, she knows the difference between anxiety and...I don't know, sexual indifference. I'm sure she has feelings for you that she just doesn't think she can act on."

Santana nodded. "I guess that makes sense..."

"I never talk about this, but before I left home, I used to help my mom with her work. My dad was kind of a doctor and he and my mom used to help girls who were pregnant. Who didn't want to be pregnant."

"You mean they would...get rid of it?"

"Sometimes," Mercedes said with a nod. "But it was dangerous. Sometimes the girls just needed someone to talk to. Most doctors who helped with delivering babies didn't think too much about what was going on with the mother, but my parents thought that it was what doctors should do. I mostly cleaned the cots and everything, but I met a lot of patients. A lot of them had been abused, like the way Brittany was. Only they weren't as lucky, and they got pregnant from it."

Santana's mouth was dry. "How did you know...what happened to Brittany?" she asked.

Mercedes shrugged. "I didn't want to make any assumptions, but I know the signs. And you kind of implied it. I'm sorry," she added, "I know this is something that's private between the two of you. But I just wanted to say that I understand."

Santana sat down so that she was level with Mercedes. "Today we were just kissing and she was touching me and she seemed really into it," she said quietly. "But then it got a little heated and suddenly she just jumped up and left really fast."

Mercedes nodded. "One thing that I kind of came to understand is that, especially when it happens repeatedly, you sometimes can't control what your body is doing. Like," she took a deep breath, "you feel, you know, something happening physically that's supposed to be a good feeling. But emotionally you feel so bad. She probably feels guilty and shameful about the way that her body reacted to Karofsky, and when she feels those feelings with you—even though they're good—she associates it with those bad emotions."

"But she shouldn't feel guilty!" Santana protested. "I _want _her to feel good."

"Of course you do," Mercedes said reassuringly. "And she knows that. I just think it's going to be a slow process where she lets go of all this stuff and learns to associate feeling, well, horny, with only you."

Santana let out a long stream of air. "I can't even imagine what this must be like for her," she said. "I want to help her so bad, I just don't know how."

Mercedes smiled. "Aw. You care about her."

"Oh shut up," Santana said

"Are you in loooove?"

"I will not tolerate this."

"Okay, fine," Mercedes said. "Well, really the only way to fix this problem is through experience. She has to feel safe. You don't want her to start associating _you _will all of this baggage." She paused thoughtfully. "Honestly, the best way to do it would be by herself.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, you know what I mean," Mercedes said. "Look, she probably confuses pleasure with pain in her head, since the two were always tied together for her. She needs to learn to separate them, and if she's the one doing the touching, she knows she's one-hundred percent in control."

"So..." Santana began slowly, "you want me to go up to the girl I like and tell her...to masturbate?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Well...yeah."

"She's going to be completely freaked out!"

"Just be tactful about it," Mercedes said airily. "It'll be fine."

Santana swallowed hard. She didn't think it would be fine. "Maybe I just need to get her used to it. Like, conditioning or something. I mean, that's kind of what we've been doing already."

Mercedes placed a hand on Santana's shoulders. "You've helped her a lot. She's gotten so much better since I first met her, I promise you. These things just take time."

Santana nodded. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Wow," Mercedes said with a grin. "I think that's the first time you've ever admitted that."

"Maybe it's the first time it's ever been true," Santana retorted. "Hmph."

"Alright, whatever," Mercedes said. "Back to Brittany, though, just…be patient. I know it's hard for you. But when it comes to her, I think you can do it."

"Yeah," Santana said. "Be patient. Alright. Thanks Wheezy."

"No problem, Satan."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Sorry for the lateness :(**

* * *

**Chapter 20: Keep You Safe**

It rained the next day. When they weren't doing chores around the deck, the crew members went into the hull or found little spots of dryness—under the stairs to the quarter deck, inside the galley, or below the makeshift roof Kurt had made with an extra piece of plywood. Santana and Brittany spent most of the day in her cabin, though they kept the door open so that they could watch the rain splatter onto the deck. It wasn't too cold, seeing as it was summer, and it was kind of nice to watch the storm from their sanctuary

"I have an idea," Brittany said as she set aside her empty bowl from lunch.

"What's your idea?" Santana asked.

"I want to teach you how to read."

Santana looked around quickly, making sure none of the crew had heard Brittany. "Right now?" she asked finally. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, why not?" Brittany asked. "We have nothing else to do."

"It just seems like it would be frustrating, is all," Santana said.

"Come on." Brittany pouted. "I want to."

Santana sighed. "Alright. Fine."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Brittany was jumping up and heading over to the desk to find _Macbeth_. "Yay!" she said. "I can't wait. I always wanted to be a teacher."

"Oh really?" Santana sighed, wondering if this was such a good idea. "Well, I'm glad I get to be your first student."

"Yeah, don't worry," Brittany said, sitting down next to Santana. "I don't know how quickly people are supposed to learn this stuff, so I have no one to compare you to. You'll be fine."

"Well, thanks," Santana said. "That's comforting." Brittany opened the book and placed it in Santana's lap. "Okay so…don't tell anyone about this."

"Don't tell anyone that the mighty Santana Lopez can't read? Don't worry, I'll try to keep it a secret."

"Ha ha," Santana said. "I'm serious. I don't want them thinking I'm not good enough to be captain."

"I'm pretty sure they have no doubts about you," Brittany said. She looked down at the page. "So, should we just start at the beginning?"

Santana nodded. "I can read some words, by the way. Just not all of them."

"Why don't you show me what you can do?" Brittany asked.

"Sure." Santana looked at the page with determination. Brittany already knew she couldn't read, but Santana wanted to impress her anyway. She could read a little. But there was that stupid word at the beginning, the one she didn't get the first time. S-C-E-N-E. "I…"

"It's okay," Brittany said quickly. "When an S and a C are next to each other, it usually just makes the S sound. I don't know why, it's just one of those things."

"Okay," Santana said. "So it's…seenie?"

"Scene," Brittany corrected. "When there's an E at the end of the word, it's usually silent."

"What's the point of that?"

Brittany paused thoughtfully. "You know, I'm not really sure. There's just a bunch of weird rules like that. Remember, I only went to school until I was ten. They didn't teach me all this stuff."

"Some teacher you are!" Santana teased. "You can't explain anything, I just have to blindly follow you. Is that right?"

Brittany shrugged. "I mean, I know everything. So yeah. You should just blindly follow me. Just like we blindly follow you when you tell us which direction to sail in."

Santana smiled. "Okay. That's a fair point. So this first line says, 'Scene one.'"

"Yep," Brittany said. "Keep going."

"Yes, teacher," Santana said. She looked back down at the page. "First, uh…witch?"

Brittany nodded. "Right," she said. "When C and H are next to each other, they make a 'ch' sound, like…chicken!"

"Like chicken. Okay. When shall…we three meet a gain?"

"Again," Brittany said. "It looks like gain but it's pronounced differently. Don't know why," she added as Santana opened her mouth to protest. "It just is."

"And I'm guessing you don't know why W and H together just sound like a W?" Santana asked. "I would have spelled 'when' like W-E-N."

"You probably would have been a better person to make up the English language," Brittany said. "But unfortunately, you didn't."

"Hmph," Santana replied. "When I become Queen of England, I'm going to change how all these words are spelled."

"You have a lot of big plans for when you become Queen, don't you?" Brittany asked.

"Oh yeah," Santana replied. "Big plans."

Brittany smiled. "Keep reading," she said. "You're doing good."

Santana looked back down at the page. "Seriously, I can't believe I'm doing this. _Only _for you, you know that, right?"

"That makes me feel so special," Brittany said with a grin.

Santana shrugged. "Well, you are," she mumbled.

"And so are you," Brittany said. "Read! The book doesn't read itself, you know."

Santana's head was already spinning with the new rules she was learning. "I'm going to forget all of this, you know," she said.

"Then I'll remind you," Brittany said. She leaned over and wrapped an arm around Santana's shoulders. "If you just practice a little every day, you'll get it eventually."

Santana smiled. The implication that Brittany was, not only going to help her every day, but would still be around 'eventually,' was enough to make Santana's heart soar.

* * *

As the day wore on, the rain got heavier and the wind picked up. It started to be less fun and more of a nuisance, especially when she had to put on her coat and go up on the deck to help out at the helm. "Tina, Mike, roll up the middle sail!" she shouted through the rain. "The storm will wreck it if we don't!"

"Here, let me get that," Puck said, trying to take the wheel from her hands. "We just need to hold it steady."

"We need to tie it down," Santana replied, not letting go of the wheel. "Hold it with me, it's too strong for just one of us. Sam!"

"I'm on it!" Sam replied, hurrying towards the quarter deck stairs to get a rope. They had already dropped the anchor and now they just had to secure the ship so that it could survive the night.

"Are you okay? You should go in," Puck said from behind her as they both strained to hold the wheel in place.

"Why would I do that?" Santana replied.

"Because," Puck said, "you're shaking." He lifted one hand from the spokes and placed it gently on her forearm, and that's when Santana realized that her whole body was trembling. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "Are you cold?"

Santana shook her head.

"Scared? Don't be, we got this. The winds aren't even that powerful, we're going to be fine."

Santana nodded.

"You're not okay, are you? You should really go into your cabin."

"I'm fine!" Santana replied, her voice pitched higher than usual. Sam hurried back with a long line of rope and began to wrap it around the spokes. Santana and Puck helped.

"We have to leave enough to reach the railing," Puck reminded.

"I know, I know," Sam said. "I've done this before. San—Captain, can you hold this for a second?"

Santana took a loop of rope and held it as Sam began to tie sturdy knots. When he was done, Puck took the end of the rope over to the railing and started to tie it down. Santana breathed a small sigh of relief, but it wasn't enough to stop her heart from pounding. "Looks good!" Puck shouted over the wind. "Call in the crew, we should get below deck!"

Santana nodded. "Okay!" she said. Puck looked at her worriedly.

"I'll do it!" he said. "You go inside."

Santana was done protesting. She began to carefully make her way towards the stairs, bracing her feet against the rocking of the deck. She passed Rachel on her way down. "Go below," she said. "We're done here."

"Are we going to die?" Rachel asked fearfully. She was wearing her dress without a coat, and it was soaked through. "I don't wanna die!"

"Berry, pull yourself together!" Santana shouted. She could _not _deal with this right now. "Seriously, I will slap you."

"I wanted to go home!" Rachel exclaimed, and tears sprung to her eyes. "I just want to go home!"

Santana was barely conscious of lifting her arm, but she heard the wet smacking noise as she brought her palm hard across Rachel's cheek. Rachel stumbled back, covering the wounded area with her hands, looking at Santana in shock. "I—I told you that I would do it," Santana said, feeling faint.

"I…" Rachel began helplessly.

"Go below," Santana ordered. "Do it now."

"Yes Captain." Rachel turned on her heel and hurried towards the hull. Santana watched her go, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She wanted to throw up. _No_, she said to herself, _don't_. There was no way she was getting seasick in this storm, not when she was supposed to be in charge.

She got inside her cabin and threw her coat onto the ground. Then she went over to her desk chair and gripped the backrest so hard that her knuckles turned white. "Breathe," she murmured to herself. "Come on, breathe."

"Some storm out there, huh?" Brittany's voice came in with a gust of wind, and then Santana heard the sound of the door closing and the wind retreated again. "Is the ship going to be okay?"

"It's gonna be fine," Santana said, not looking at Brittany. She hadn't quite gotten herself under control yet. "Are you okay?"

"Okay? This is awesome!" She heard her mattress creak as Brittany sat down on the bed. "A little scary, but in a good way."

Santana closed her eyes. "Yes," she said slowly. "In a good way." She summoned all of her strength and relaxed her muscles. _Calm_.

"Hey," Brittany said. "I have to confess something, I…talked to Mercedes."

"What?" Santana turned around.

"And she told me that she talked to you."

"Oh." Santana tightened her grip on the chair again. "Brittany, I'm so sorry. I told her to stop prying but, like…and I also talked to Quinn."

"It's okay," Brittany said, and she smiled to show that she was serious about it. "I was never the one who wanted to keep this a secret, remember?"

"Ugh, right," Santana said. "I feel terrible."

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Brittany said quickly. "I just mean that whenever you want to tell people is okay with me."

"We shouldn't keep this a secret anymore," Santana said. "Everyone is starting to suspect, it's only a matter of time."

Brittany nodded. "That makes sense," she said.

"I mean, we don't need to make, like, an announcement about it. But we don't have to hide it anymore, either." The ship rocked particularly vigorously and Santana gasped. "That—uh—makes sense, right?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Wait, so what did you talk to Mercedes about?" Santana asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Brittany moved over to the bed and sat down. "Well, she just started talking to me and then somehow I ended up telling her about us…"

"She does that," Santana muttered.

"And she said that she had actually talked to you about me and she told me about…her suggestion."

"Oh." Santana looked down at the floor. This was exactly what she had been afraid of. "Yeah, I told her it was a bad idea."

"I want to do whatever it takes to be with you," Brittany said. "That includes getting over this problem so we can…you know…"

"Brittany." Santana felt uncomfortable making Brittany talk about this. "We don't need to do any of that stuff, we can just do what you feel comfortable with."

"But it's important in a relationship to be, you know, intimate. Completely." Santana opened her mouth to say something but Brittany held up her hand. "I know you are going to say it's okay, because you're amazing, but the fact is that I don't want to mess this up and I know that it would eventually come between us if I freaked out every time we got close to having sex."

Santana just stared. She hadn't expected Brittany to talk about it so bluntly and she wasn't quite sure how to respond. "So…" she said finally. "You're going to…do what Mercedes asked?"

"If it helps," Brittany said quickly. "Then yeah."

Santana swallowed. "Uh. Good?"

"We can also keep practicing," Brittany said. "Slowly, for sure, but it'll help."

Santana wanted to suggest practicing right now—her head was spinning at the thought, really—but there was a crack of thunder from outside that had her legs shaking. She dropped down into her chair and began taking deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked.

"Fine," Santana said breathlessly, waving her away. "I'm fine."

"Wanna come sit on the bed? The rocking isn't so bad when you're sitting down."

Santana just shook her head, still trying to collect herself. This wasn't the first storm she'd experienced since the one that had killed her parents, but it was her first storm as captain, and she knew that all the decisions would eventually come down to her. If they ran into any kind of problem, Quinn would be running into her cabin asking her what they should do, and she would be curled up in her chair, panicking…

"Santana, you really don't look okay," Brittany said. "Come over here."

Santana wanted to object again, but she somehow found herself getting up from the chair and walking over to the bed. She lay down, facing away from Brittany, and clutched at the blankets. "I'm okay," she said. "Really."

"Don't lie to me," Brittany said. "Are you sick?" Santana shook her head. "Then what is it? You look pale."

"I just…don't like storms," Santana said, "but it's fine."

"Oh." Brittany paused. "_Oh_." Santana felt Brittany's hand on her head, stroking her hair gently. "You don't like storms because they remind you of losing your parents," she asked quietly, "right?"

Santana nodded. "Yeah," she whispered.

"Baby," Brittany said, and she felt weight shifted on the bed behind her. Suddenly, Brittany's arm was around her waist, and her lips were pressing into Santana's neck. "It's okay. I'm right here."

"I can deal with it," Santana said, but even as she spoke, she reached down to the hand that was by her hips and laced their fingers together.

"I know you _can_," Brittany said. "But I'm here, anyway."

"I slapped Rachel," Santana murmured tearfully. "I shouldn't have done it, I don't know why…she was just freaking out and I couldn't take it."

"Is she okay?" Brittany asked.

"I…yeah, she seemed okay," Santana said. "It got her to shut up, anyway."

"Then it's fine," Brittany said. She shifted so that her front was pressed flush against Santana's back. "Just close your eyes," she said. Santana did, and tried to block out the sound of rain pounding against the deck above them, tried to focus only on the feeling of Brittany's arm wrapped around her. Eventually, her breathing began to even out.

"Do you think Rachel will tell Finn?"

"Even if she does, what's he gonna do to you?" Brittany said. "Quinn, I would be more worried about. But don't worry, I can save you from her. I'm taller."

Santana managed to force a small laugh. "You'll fight her off?"

"If that's what it takes to keep you safe."

Santana forced back tears. "Thank you," she said, because she couldn't think of any way to tell Brittany just how comforting her presence was.

"You're welcome," Brittany murmured into the back of her neck.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: The Letter**

Santana woke up to calm seas and no rain and Brittany's arm still wrapped around her, and she almost wept with happiness. It was the perfect way to start her morning. "Are you awake?" she whispered.

She felt Brittany shift behind her. "Mhm. I've been awake for a little while, I just didn't want to wake you."

"Is it late?" Santana asked in surprise.

"The breakfast bell rang like fifteen minutes ago," Brittany said. "But stay," she urged when Santana started to move. "You were tossing and turning all night, you can sleep in a little bit."

"Alright. Did I keep you up?"

"Not really," Brittany replied. "Anyway, I'm not tired. You look beautiful."

Santana self-consciously ran her fingers through her hair. "Really?" she said.

Brittany nuzzled the back of her neck. "I'm going to keep telling you until you finally believe me."

Santana turned over and pressed a soft kiss to Brittany's lips. "You're beautiful, too," she said.

They kissed slowly and lazily for a long time—just how long it was, Santana wasn't sure. When they finally got out of bed and went outside, the sun was up and everyone was bustling around the deck. They looked at Santana and Brittany curiously as the two of them emerged from her cabin, and Santana kept her head down shyly.

"This is awkward," she said.

"Hey, we decided we weren't going to keep this a secret anymore," Brittany said. She reached up and touched the small of Santana's back. "It's okay."

Santana sighed. "I guess you're right," she said. "Prepare for the uncomfortable interrogation, now…"

Brittany chuckled. "I will. I'm going to go help Tina fix the sails." She kissed Santana's cheek quickly and then hurried over to the rigging, where Tina was trying to straighten out some of the sails that had twisted during the night. Santana watched the two of them fondly for a little bit, before walking away to make her rounds. She had to see if anything had gone wrong or been misplaced because of the high winds.

"Hey Santana!" came Finn's voice from by the galley. Santana turned around to see him dressed in a flour covered apron. His eyes were narrowed and Santana had a feeling she knew what he wanted to talk about.

"Sup, Hudson," she said. "Is there breakfast left? I didn't eat yet."

"Yeah—I mean, no!" He took several steps towards her. "It's your own fault you missed breakfast, because you were too busy—uh—slapping my girlfriend!"

Santana was seized by the sudden desire to laugh, and she forced her face to remain impassionate. "Actually, I slapped her last night," Santana said. "Not during breakfast."

"I know that," Finn said. "I was just—anyway, you upset her and you should apologize."

"Or what?"

"Or…" Finn looked confused. "I don't know. But it would be the right thing to do."

"Aw," Santana said. "Did she go whining to you about it? Needs her strong boyfriend to protect her?"

"She doesn't," Finn said. "She actually didn't even want me to say anything but…but I am. What you did was rude and mean!"

Santana sighed. "Alright, whatever. I'll apologize to her if I see her."

"That's…okay, that's fine." Finn looked somewhat relieved. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad. And I have your breakfast. I'll get it for you." He hurried away into the galley and Santana just shook her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn approaching.

"Status update?" she asked.

"In a minute," Quinn said. "What does he want you to apologize for?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing." Messing with Finn was fun, but she didn't particularly want Quinn to know about all of this. She wasn't proud of slapping Rachel, and she didn't want everyone else to think she'd gone crazy.

"I know you guys were talking about Rachel," Quinn said. "What happened?"

God, there was just no limit to Quinn's nosiness when she had a crush. "It was nothing, Rachel and I just had a minor disagreement."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Really? What kind of disagreement?"

"Like I said, it was minor, I don't even really remember the details."

"Then why did Finn have to get involved?" Quinn looked highly suspicious. "If it was so minor—"

"Because he's an idiot," Santana said, just as said idiot came back, carrying a plate with a heaping pile of cornbread on the top. "Did you save some for Brittany?" she asked.

Finn nodded. "I'll give it to her when she comes down from the rigging."

"Excellent," Santana said. She took a large bite and turned to Quinn. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Alright, whatever," she said. "So besides the sails, everything looks good. A box of cannonballs broke on the deck, but we moved them to another box and Sam and Mike are fixing it. No holes in the hull, and nothing much seems to have shifted. A bottle of rum broke but I think Mercedes cleaned that up."

Santana swallowed her mouthful of bread. "Excellent," she said. "Good work. What's everyone doing now?"

"Normal rotations," Quinn said.

"Perfect. I'm going to do a checkup, keep me posted."

Quinn nodded, still looking at Santana with narrowed eyes. Santana ignored her and began to walk around the deck, eating her food and overseeing everyone's work. Puck and Mike were bringing boxes onto the deck from the hull, and after their third trip, Santana stopped them.

"What are you guys doing?" she asked.

"Bringing the rum up," Mike said.

"We're having a party tonight!" Puck clapped Santana's shoulder happily. "The storm finally passed and we thought we'd celebrate. It's been a long time since we did anything fun."

"We're still missing Blaine, we don't really have that much to celebrate," Santana pointed out.

"_You _do, though," Puck said, wiggling his eyebrows. Santana didn't say anything. "And speaking of Brittany, she's the one who asked me to have the party in the first place. So you can't say no it to now."

"I never said no, I just—"

"Hah!" Puck exclaimed.

"I was just questioning your motives," Santana said, ignoring his outburst. She looked at Mike. "Keep it under control," she said.

Mike nodded. "Yes Captain, we will, don't worry."

"We're going to bring out the instruments!" Puck said. "And get some music up in here."

"Alright, have fun with that," Santana said.

She watched them for a little while out of boredom and then decided that there was nothing else to be done and she might as well waste some time with Brittany. Tina was in the crow's nest by herself and the sail looked intact, so the two of them must have finished their work.

"Hey Artie," she said, stopping the first person who she could find. "Where is Brittany?"

Artie shrugged. "Maybe below? I'm not sure."

"Hm. Okay." Santana wasn't sure why Brittany would have gone to the bunks—she knew that she was welcome in Santana's cabin—but she decided to check, anyway. Maybe Brittany was hanging out with someone or stealing food from the cargo hold; Santana did that often enough. She descended the ladder and took a right turn, heading for the bunks. She peeked inside and saw a mess of blond hair in one of the corner bunks, barely visible behind the curtain that hung from the ceiling to the floor. A grin spread across Santana's face. She was going to surprise her.

She crept across the room quietly until she was standing right in front of the bed. Then she grabbed the curtain and whipped it aside.

"Boo!" Santana exclaimed, and then froze when she saw Brittany hastily whip her hand out of her pants. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, backing away until she hit her head against another bed. "Ow! I, um..."

"Are you okay?" Brittany asked. Santana opened her eyes. Brittany was lying on one of the bunks, looking at Santana in concern. Her cheeks were flushed and the button of her pants was undone. Brittany followed Santana's gaze towards her crotch and quickly began to zip herself back up. Santana shook her head vigorously.

"I was just gonna say we could…but nevermind…I actually have something to do on deck that I totally forgot about." Santana's heart was pounding and she felt suddenly breathless.

"Okay," Brittany replied. Then she narrowed her eyes. "You know, you _told _me to-"

"I know, I did!" Santana said, still backing away. She was dizzy from the lack of blood getting to her brain, though her pounding heart reminded her that the blood was definitely going _somewhere_. "I'll leave now, though, so you can finish...please. Don't stop on...on my account." Fuck. What was she saying? She turned around and began to head back to the doorway quickly.

"Okay, uh…bye Santana," she heard Brittany call from behind her.

"Bye!" Santana called back, not turning around until she was up the ladder and safely back inside her cabin.

* * *

As soon as the sun went down, Puck started playing his guitar. Normally, Santana got annoyed when the boys sang the same pirate chanteys over and over again, but it had been a while since she'd heard them and it was kind of comforting. Finn slapped on a barrel to keep the beat as Sam and Artie sang. Santana sipped on her rum and looked around the deck for Brittany. She wanted to apologize for her weird behavior earlier, but she wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject.

"Santana!"

Santana whirled around to see Quinn storming towards her, Rachel Berry on her heels. Oops. Santana knew Quinn was much more determined than Finn, and there was nothing she could really do to stop the yelling. She might as well brace herself.

"Is it true that you slapped Rachel?"

Luckily, the music was loud enough to keep the entire crew from hearing, but Rachel was listening in, looking nervous. Santana sighed. "Yeah," she said. "I did."

"And you didn't apologize, even though you told Finn you would?"

"I was just waiting for a chance!" Santana protested.

"You've had plenty of chance!" Quinn said.

"Quinn, please," Rachel insisted. "If she says she's going to apologize, and she does, then I don't see why we have a problem—"

"You can't just go around slapping people whenever you feel like it, particularly not guests on our ship like Rachel! She's not used to this kind of treatment, Santana, you can't just—and she's a _girl_, too, so you really…come on, S, you know you can't do that!" Quinn's face was bright red and she looked like she was having trouble remaining coherent. It was enough to make Santana feel bad.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," she said. "I shouldn't have done that. I was stressed out and it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. I promise it will never happen again."

Rachel nodded. "Apology accepted," she said. "Come on Quinn, let's go." She grabbed Quinn's arm and tried to pull her away, but Quinn shook her head.

"You're just so horrible, you do whatever you want and don't think about the consequences, can't you see how difficult you're making things for everybody? Can't you just be nice to people for once?" Quinn looked like she was about to cry.

"Maybe you should go," Santana said quietly to Rachel, taking hold of Quinn's hand. Quinn tried to resist but Santana held on tightly, pulling her away towards the door of her cabin. Rachel bit her lip.

"Let me know if you need me to help with anything," she said.

"I will." Santana opened the door to her cabin and forced Quinn inside, locking it behind them. "Okay," she said, "what's _really _going on here?"

"You hit Rachel," Quinn said flatly.

"You really care about her that much?"

"Yes, Santana, I do!" she said. "And I also don't think that you should hit people, period."

"Okay, but Quinn, let's face it—you're mad about something else. Come on, talk to me," Santana said. "You've been acting weird forever and I can't take it anymore."

Quinn took a shaky breath. "I just…I think I'm going to leave you at Port Carmel."

Santana's heart dropped into her stomach. "What?"

"Don't try to talk me out of it, I've already made up my mind," Quinn said. "I'm leaving. This…this isn't right for me."

"Quinn." Santana felt like her heart was breaking. "Quinn, you can't. The crew needs you. I…I need you."

"I know, Santana, but you'll be fine," Quinn said, refusing to make eye contact.

"Is this about me?"

"No, it's not," Quinn said. "I promise. It's not about anyone else, just me."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Santana exclaimed. "I thought you loved it here, I thought we were your best friends."

"Don't!" Quinn said, looking up at Santana. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Don't say that, this is hard for me too, okay? This is hurting me worse than it's hurting you."

"Then why do you have to leave?" Santana asked desperately. "Quinn, please."

"I told Sue that I would go back to her," Quinn said. "When this is all over. And…well, you know where you're going now, I don't think you need my help anymore. I might as well do it sooner rather than later."

"Quinn, no!" Santana said. "You can't go back to that woman!"

"It's too late, Santana, I promised," Quinn said. "I'm not meant for this kind of life, I know that now. And…she said that it was the only way she would help us get Blaine."

"So? Since when have you cared about Blaine?"

"I _do_ care about Blaine!" Quinn wiped her eyes furiously. "And I think that this was the right choice for me, anyway. Sue convinced me. My life was better when I was working for her."

"What could she have possibly said to convince you of that?" Santana asked.

Quinn sighed. "Santana, you've always been a pirate. There's just some things you can't understand."

"Then make me understand!"

There was a long silence during which Quinn appeared to have an intense internal struggle. Finally, she spoke. "A few years after I left home, my parents contacted me and…made me an offer, to try and get me back."

"What kind of offer?" Santana asked.

"They were going to give me a lot of money," Quinn said. "They wanted to pay for me to attend a university."

"A university?"

"It's like school," Quinn explained. "Well, more than school really, it's like school for adults. They teach you things—real things, math and science and English, more than I ever got to learn in primary school back home. I would have had to pretend to be a guy and everything, they don't let girls learn this kind of stuff—"

"Figures," Santana muttered.

"—and my parents definitely didn't approve. But they knew it was something I was interested in and they thought it was the only way to get me to come home. So while I was living with Sue, I applied to a school called Yale."

"What's Yale?"

"It's a university in New Haven," Quinn said. "I was going to go there, dressed up as a boy, using the money my parents gave me. And after that, I was going to come home and live with them, as a college-educated daughter instead of the nun they wanted me to be. It wasn't ideal for them, but it was better than losing me forever."

"Makes sense," Santana said, "but I don't understand. You didn't go."

"I didn't get in," Quinn said. "Or at least, I thought I didn't. I received my rejection letter and I gave up, I decided to keep working at the Salmon Shack. And then you came along and I thought, what the hell, I might as well go into piracy. I never knew that I was good enough to go to school, that I…actually got in."

"The letter," Santana said, having a sudden moment of realization. "The one you found when we were at the Salmon Shack, the one you were yelling at Sue about. It was an acceptance letter to Yale?"

Quinn nodded. "It was the real one," she said. "Sue made a fake. She didn't want me to leave her, I was too valuable to her bar."

"That bitch!" Santana exclaimed. "That conniving bitch, how dare she…"

"She knew what she was doing," Quinn said sadly. "I was just a rebellious child, I wasn't ready…I had no idea what I was putting my parents through, or what kind of sacrifice this was going to be for them. I didn't realize how immature I was, or how immature I continued to be, until that day we went to see Sue. She talked to me and…she made me understand."

"She ruined your future!" Santana was practically shaking with anger on Quinn's behalf. But Quinn just smiled ruefully.

"Someday, Santana, you'll realize there's more to life than having fun on the high seas."

"So, what, you're just going to go back there and start stripping again? Because it's so much more honorable than being a pirate?"

"Sue's cut me a deal," Quinn said. "She'll help me to go Yale, if I work for her for a little while. She'll give me a huge share of what she makes while I'm working, and with that plus my share that I have here, I think I can pay for it soon. If I get in this time around, that is."

"But…" Santana saw the determination in Quinn's eyes, and for the first time, she realized that she had lost this battle before it even began. Quinn was going to leave them. She'd already decided. "But you can't go," she said, hot tears welling up in her eyes. "What about all of us?"

"I'm going to miss you so much, Santana," Quinn said.

"Then stay, please! We can steal enough money to send you to Yale."

Quinn shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just wasn't meant to be a pirate. And anyway, I'm not gone yet. I still have another day or two, so just…don't cry yet, okay?"

"Don't cry?" Santana asked in disbelief. "Don't _cry_? You've gotta be kidding me." Tears were falling rapidly down her cheeks as she spoke, and she made no move to wipe them away. This was _horrible_.

Quinn walked across the cabin and wrapped Santana in her arms. "Santana, I love you," she said. "This kills me, it really does. You're going to make such a great captain and I wish I could be here to see it."

"I…I can't…" Santana's whole body was shaking. She wrapped her arms tightly around Quinn's waist, trying to control herself. There was no way she could survive without Quinn, her best friend, her oldest friend, the only person on this ship besides Brittany that she really trusted. "I love you too, Quinn," she said tearfully. "So much."

"Shh," Quinn said, stroking her hair. "It's going to be okay."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22: A Pirate Party**

It took almost twenty minutes for Santana to pull herself together enough to go back outside. She didn't really want to go back to the party but Quinn insisted, and practically forced her out the door in front of her. "Remember, I'm not gone yet," she murmured in Santana's ear. "Just have fun." She closed the door behind them and looked around the deck. "Hey Artie!" she called out. "Deal me in!" She gave Santana's arm a quick squeeze and headed over to the group that was playing poker. Santana watched her go, figuring at least one of them had to pretend everything was okay.

She walked slowly towards the center of the deck, where the music was still going strong. Brittany was dancing wildly with Mike, and Santana moved around to the edge of the dance floor, relocating her rum. Then she walked over to where Tina was standing by the railing. "Hey," Tina said. "Looks like my boyfriend and your girlfriend really hit it off."

Santana gave a small smile. "Yeah," she said. "Brittany loves to dance."

"Mike, too." Tina took a swig from her bottle. "So Brittany _is _your girlfriend? I was sort of going out on a limb."

"Oh." Santana had been too distracted to spot Tina's trap, and now it was too late. "Yeah. I guess she is. Sneaky, by the way."

Tina laughed. "I'm sneakier than you think," she said. "That's cute, though. Brittany's nice. She's helped me a lot in the crow's nest."

"Yeah, because there's _so _much that needs to be done in the crow's nest," Santana said.

"Hey." Tina hit her shoulder playfully. "If there's trouble, I'll be the first one to spot it, thank you very much."

"Yeah, I know," Santana said. She sighed. "You're a valuable asset, I suppose."

"I saw Port Carmel in the distance right before sunset," Tina said. "We should be there sometime tomorrow."

Which would mean that Quinn…Santana forced the thought from her mind. "That's great," she said, trying to sound as excited as she could. "We have a lot of work to do."

"You've got that right," Tina said.

"Hey Santana!" Santana looked up to see Brittany, dragging Mike towards the two of them. "Come dance with me."

"What? No," Santana said, shaking her head. "No, just dance with Mike, that's probably better." She wasn't really in the mood to dance, nor to possibly make a fool of herself in front of everybody.

"No come on," Brittany said. "Mike says you're a good dancer."

Santana looked at Mike, who shrugged. "I…sorry."

"Come _on_!" Brittany said, letting go of Mike's hand and grabbing both of Santana's. "Let's go."

Beside her, Tina stood up and allowed herself to be led away by Mike. Santana sighed in defeat. "Alright," she said, already feeling infected by Brittany's good mood. "I guess one dance wouldn't hurt."

"Yay!" Brittany squealed, and the two of them went onto the dance floor. Artie had returned from his poker game to take over the singing duties, and Sam and Mercedes were dancing together in front. Santana tried to hide behind them. She noticed Rachel standing by, watching as Finn played the drums and looking longingly towards the dance floor. Santana hoped Quinn had the good sense to notice and ask her for a dance. It was a move so obvious that even Finn was bound to catch on eventually.

She turned to Brittany. "You're really good at dancing," she said. "So is Mike, I'm not really going to compare."

"Yes you are," Brittany said, slipping one hand around Santana's waist and taking the other hand in her own. "I'd much rather dance with you than Mike, anyway."

"Oh yeah?" Santana grinned. "Why?"

"Cuz you're cute," Brittany said. "And by the way, everyone knows we're together now, so we don't have to worry what they'll think when they see us dancing. So you can stop trying to hide behind Sam now."

"Huh? Oh." Santana glanced down at the deck. "Sorry."

"It's 'kay, I think you're adorable when you're shy." She pulled Santana close and lowered her voice. "So adorable."

Santana laughed. "Have you been drinking?"

"Mhm," Brittany said. "You were having some sort of serious talk with Quinn, according to Rachel. I had to pass the time somehow."

"Sorry about that, by the way," Santana said.

"No apology necessary," Brittany said. "You're here now." She pulled Santana even closer to that they were almost pressed up against each other, and Santana had to tilt her neck back to keep making eye contact with Brittany. It was true that the crew seemed okay with their relationship, but this amount of public intimacy might be pushing it.

"And how _much_ did you drink?" Santana asked, trying to pull away a little bit. She looked up at Brittany's flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. "I thought you didn't drink, anyway."

"I never have before," Brittany said. "I don't know why. It's yummy."

The song came to an end with one last shimmering chord from Puck. "Our drummer is taking a break to be with his honey," he announced when they finished. "So we're going to slow it down a little bit." He looked at Artie and whispered something to him. Artie nodded, and Puck began slow arpeggios on his guitar. Brittany smiled at Santana and let go of her hand, moving it down to encircle her waist. Santana wrapped both arms around Brittany's neck.

"You're so perfect," Brittany said, leaning down to rest her forehead against Santana's.

"And you're so drunk," Santana replied.

"But even if I wasn't, I would still think you're perfect. I think I…" She trailed off. "You look stunning. Your eyes are red."

"I'm just sleepy," Santana said, not wanting to think about the reason she had been crying. Brittany would have to know eventually, but she didn't want to ruin this night. "Anyway, you think you what?"

"Nothing," Brittany said. "It was nothing."

"Tell me," Santana protested.

Brittany giggled. "You're nosy, aren't you?" She reached up a hand and flicked Santana's nose.

"Don't do that," Santana said.

Brittany did it again. "Aw, do you have a sensitive nose?"

"No." Santana buried her face in Brittany's chest. "You're the worst."

"Really? I think I'm the best." She dropped her hand back down and hugged Santana close. She rested her chin on the top of Santana's head and Santana didn't pull away, enjoying being close to Brittany too much to change their position. Even if it did make her look kind of pathetic. She could see Sam and Mercedes with the eye that wasn't obscured by Brittany's collarbone, looking at the two of them and smiling.

"I think people think we're cute," she whispered.

"Ignore them," Brittany said. "We're not cute. We're fierce and badass."

"I mean, maybe we're a little cute."

"No. No way." Brittany kissed the top of Santana's head. "Finn and Rachel are making out hardcore behind you. Don't look."

"Ew. I don't want to." Santana made a face. "Where is Quinn? Is she moping?"

"She's talking to Kurt. No, I don't think so, they're smiling. A little bit anyway."

"Good." So Quinn was still putting on a brave face. She seemed like she was coping better now that she had told Santana her secret. If only Santana felt the same way.

"Now everybody is kissing," Brittany said. "Close your eyes. It's disgusting!"

Santana giggled and hid her face in Brittany's neck. "Kissing is gross, huh?"

"So gross," Brittany said. "Like, I don't understand how anyone can deal with it." As she spoke, her hands drifted a little lower on Santana's back. It seemed almost unintentional, but it didn't go unnoticed by Santana.

"Getting handsy?" she murmured.

"Hm? I can't hear you," Brittany said.

"Nevermind." Santana started to rub circles into the back of Brittany's neck, as Brittany's hands found her waistline. She ran her fingers along the top of Santana's pants, and Santana shivered.

"Hey San."

"Mhm?"

"Look at me."

Santana lifted her head and tilted it up towards Brittany. They made eye contact for a second before Brittany's lips crashed down against hers. Santana deepened the kiss quickly and Brittany moaned. It was way too passionate for such a public setting, but Santana couldn't bring herself to stop, even when the music stopped. They kissed until the boys started a new, more upbeat song, and Santana felt someone crash into her from behind.

"Whoops!" Santana turned around to see Quinn, dancing with Rachel. "Sorry," Quinn continued. "Didn't see you there." Rachel giggled and the two of them danced away, bumping into Sam and Mercedes and forcing a bit of distance between them. Santana looked up at Brittany's flushed face.

"We probably shouldn't have done that," she said.

"Yes, we should have," Brittany replied. She flicked her tongue out against her lips. "That was awesome. Wanna go somewhere else?"

Santana heart was pounding at the thought of where this could possibly go, but she was aware that they had to be careful not to move too fast. "Let's go to the quarter deck," she suggested. "No one will be up there."

"Okay." Brittany let go of Santana and laced their fingers together. "Look at Rachel and Quinn," she said quietly as they left the dance floor. "They look cute together."

Santana looked at the two of them, dancing and laughing and continuing to heckle people. It was a little more 'best friends' than 'girlfriends,' especially with Finn banging on his barrel drums not too far away, but it was still progress. Quinn's impending departure had clearly caused her to throw caution to the winds. It would be a good thing if the reason wasn't so damn tragic.

Santana grabbed her rum and Brittany pulled her up the stairs and over to the railing. "This is where we had our first hug, remember?" she said, sitting down on the deck. Santana sat down beside her. "That hug was hot."

Santana giggled and took a swig of rum. "I didn't know a hug could be hot."

"With you it was." Brittany took the bottle from Santana and took several large gulps before Santana could stop her.

"Should you really be drinking anything else?"

"Don't be a party pooper." Brittany set the bottle down and smiled at Santana. Santana smiled back. It wasn't really her place to scold Brittany about drinking too much, since it would be somewhat hypocritical. Brittany leaned in for another kiss and Santana tangled her hands in Brittany's hair.

This time, there was nobody to stop them, and it wasn't long before Santana ended up in Brittany's lap, sucking furiously on her collarbone. The alcohol in her system seemed to be clouding her own judgment as well, and she started unbuttoning Brittany's shirt just enough to slip her hands inside. "Is this okay?" she whispered, cupping Brittany's breasts over her bra.

"It's good," Brittany said breathlessly, throwing her head back. "Don't stop."

"This is such a bad idea," Santana said, running her hands over Brittany's bare abs as she nuzzled her neck. "Anyone could come up here and see us."

"And yet," Brittany reached around Santana's back and started to tug her shirt upwards, "you're not stopping."

"I'm sorry," Santana said unapologetically. "You're just really hot." She leaned up to meet Brittany's lips again, and slipped her hands under Brittany's bra. Brittany moaned.

"That feels really good," she whispered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Brittany tugged on Santana's shirt again and giggled. "I wanna get this off."

"All you had to do was ask." Santana sat back on Brittany's thighs and quickly undid the buttons on her shirt. She let it fall open and Brittany pulled her close, pressing kisses to the bare skin just above her bra. Santana squirmed in her lap.

"Let's go to your cabin," Brittany murmured against Santana's chest.

Little warning lights started going off in Santana's head. "We should probably stay here," Santana said.

"But then everyone will see us." Brittany slid one hand down the back of Santana's pants, tracing the waistband of her underwear. Santana moaned.

_Dammit_, she thought. "Well, that's why we should probably slow it down." She let her head drop down onto Brittany's shoulder. "Because it would be awkward if someone saw us like this."

"_Or _we could go to your cabin…" Brittany's hand wandered even lower and it took all the willpower Santana possessed to sit up and look Brittany squarely in the eye.

"You're drunk," she said. "This can't happen right now. I'm sorry."

Brittany pouted and Santana resisted the urge to kiss her away. "But San, I'm ready," she said. "Even before I was drinking, I decided I was ready."

Santana smiled. "Don't be a liar."

"Well, okay. We could just do some things, and not do everything."

"Britt," Santana said. "You gotta believe this is killing me, but I know that if we go to my cabin, we're going to do something we regret." Brittany frowned. "And I never used to think about consequences before, but, well…I care about you too much. I don't wanna mess this up."

"I guess you're right," Brittany said, though she looked upset.

"And we should probably stay away from this." Santana reached over to her bottle of rum and began to screw the cap on. Brittany started fixing the buttons on her shirt.

"Can we cuddle, at least?" she asked.

Santana grinned. "Of course we can cuddle," she replied, sliding off of Brittany's lap. She repositioned herself so that her back was resting on the railing beside Brittany's, and Brittany draped an arm over her shoulders. Santana turned to the side and wrapped an arm around the front of Brittany's waist. She rested her head on Brittany's chest and closed her eyes.

"Santana," Brittany whispered after several minutes.

"Yeah?" Santana muttered tiredly.

"I…" She paused. "Are you awake?"

"Mhm."

"Nevermind, sleepy head," Brittany said. "I'll tell you later."

"Okay." In the back of her mind, she was curious to know what Brittany wanted to say, but she decided not to press it when the moment was so perfect already. So she kept her head against her gorgeous girlfriend and allowed the rhythmic movement of Brittany's chest to put her to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23: To The Fort**

Santana woke up before dawn to take over at the helm so that she could steer them into Port Carmel. She kept the port in her sights, but it was important that they made a wide arc into a more secluded area, lest they risk being seen by Navy officials. Pirate ships weren't at all welcome at royal ports, and Port Carmel was one of the most upstanding of them all. It was going to be a challenge just to get Jesse to speak to them, though Santana hoped that giving him evidence of the _Dalton_'s corruption might convince him to be their ally for a little while. And if not, there was always the possibility that he would be eager to see Brittany. Though, preferably, not too eager.

Brittany stayed by Santana's side as the sun came up, rubbing polish into their boots. They were trying to fix themselves up to look more presentable, so as not to attract attention when they went into town. Sam, Mike, and Mercedes were awake as well, cleaning the cannons and bringing the swords and bayonets onto the deck. They were going into a potentially dangerous situation, and it never hurt to be safe. From the galley, Santana could smell Finn's fried chicken.

"I think this is the most we've prepared for anything," Santana said. She looked at Brittany. "Did you get enough sleep?"

Brittany just shrugged and continued to work at the boot. They had dozed off on the deck the night before, and woken up just as the last partiers, Puck and Artie, were making their way to bed. Brittany had stayed the night in Santana's cabin without discussion, but Santana had fallen asleep immediately. When she'd woken up with the four o'clock watch, however, she had been able to see the whites of Brittany's eyes glimmering as she stared blankly at the ceiling. She wasn't sure if Brittany had even slept a wink.

"You can go take a nap," she suggested.

Brittany shook her head. "Don't think I'd be able to sleep."

Santana tried to smile encouragingly. "You'll feel better when you've had breakfast. It sounds like Finn is making a feast in there."

"Yeah. Maybe." She finished one boot and started on another.

Santana didn't blame Brittany for feeling uncomfortable. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to face the people who abandoned you. Brittany hadn't been here since she was a happy ten-year-old, since her father was alive. The anticipation of finding out what had become of her hometown was probably driving her insane.

"You'll have to let me fix your hair," Brittany said after a while.

Santana pretended to be offended. "What's wrong with my hair? I thought it was beautiful."

"It _is _beautiful," Brittany said. "But you look like a pirate. No offense."

Santana shrugged. "Occupational hazard, I guess."

"And whoever else is going into town, I'll have to clean them up, too. Don't worry," she added, "I know it's been a while but I remember how to do this stuff."

Santana smiled. "I have no doubt," she said. She looked ahead at Port Carmel's main dock, now less than an hour's sail away. She scanned the coastline for some sort of cove. "I'm going to go that way," Santana said, pointing. "Where the land curves around a little bit, I think if we go over there we won't be visible to the people in the town."

Brittany stood up and moved to Santana's side, following her gaze. "Yeah, nobody will be able to see you. The shore is like a jungle."

"Does it go very far?"

Brittany shook her head. "No. We used to play in it all the time. I think it should be okay."

"Good." She looked at Brittany. "When you say 'we,' do you mean you and Jesse?"

Brittany shrugged sheepishly. "I had no other friends."

"I was just curious."

"Don't worry," she said with a small smile. "You have nothing to be jealous about."

"I—I wasn't jealous," Santana protested.

"Sure."

"I really wasn't!"

"Okay then." Brittany went back to her boots and Santana continued to steer them in the right direction. As they got closer and closer to their destination, Brittany's playfulness subsided, and she eventually left Santana to go below. Finally, Artie came to take over at the helm, and Santana went down to the main deck.

Puck approached her immediately. "Santana," he said through mouthfuls of chicken. "We're not all going to see St. James, are we?"

Santana shook her head. "We're only taking who we can fit in the lifeboat. I'm thinking four people. You, me, Brittany…and Quinn."

Puck nodded. "Alright then. Sounds good. I'll go put on a clean shirt." He headed to the hull and Santana watched him go. Judging by his lack of reaction to her mention of Quinn, he probably did not know that she was planning to leave them. Santana knew the crew was gonna flip out when they were told, and she hoped that Quinn would at least have the decency to warn them before she took off. Santana didn't want to be stuck explaining why they had once again lost a first mate.

She got some breakfast and sat down to eat. Brittany came back on deck and curled up by Santana's legs, not speaking. Quinn came and sat down on her other side, and Santana began to speak to her in a low voice. "You're coming with us to see Jesse, right?"

"Of course," Quinn said. "You need me. I know you're no good at negotiating. Last time, you ended up buying a girlfriend instead of food."

Santana tried to smile, but she couldn't quite manage it with the weight of Quinn's departure hanging on her. "And how long will you stay?" she asked, quietly enough that Brittany couldn't hear.

Quinn swallowed hard. "If everything goes well, I'll stay as long as you guys do. I just want to make sure you're heading off in the right direction to save Blaine. If you need any last minute help, I'll be here."

"I wish you didn't have to go," Santana said before she could stop herself. She had resolved not to try and change Quinn's mind, but it was impossible when every fiber of her being was begging her to throw Quinn in the brig and force her to remain behind.

"Santana, we talked about this," Quinn began warningly.

"I know."

They finished their breakfast quietly and Brittany got up to do Santana's hair. "Quinn's needs fixing, too," she said. "I'll do hers after."

"Oh come on," Quinn said. "My hair can't be that bad. It's short."

"It's full of tangles," Santana said. "It looks like a bird's nest in there."

"Can't I just wear a hat?"

"No," Brittany said.

"They're going to know we're pirates anyway, no girl walks around in pants. We might as well look intimidating."

"Quinn, there is a difference between dirty and intimidating." Rachel had left her spot and was heading towards the three of them, eager to join in on the beautification. "Trust me, I was a respectable woman not too long ago. Sit down."

"What?" Quinn asked.

"Sit down on this box, I'm going to comb out your hair."

Quinn sighed in exasperation, but Santana knew she wouldn't say no to Rachel. "Alright, whatever," she said. "But if you make it hurt, I'm just gonna cut it off."

Santana rolled her eyes and focused on the feeling of Brittany's fingers combing through her hair. Occasionally, she would pull out a tangle and Santana would feel a sharp tug on her scalp, but for the most part, Brittany's delicate hands felt nice. Santana could tell that she was trying to be extremely careful. "You have really thick hair," Brittany commented after a while.

"I know," Santana said, "it's so unruly, I hate it."

"I think it's lovely," Brittany replied. "I wish I had hair like yours. Mine gets stringy."

"That's why I cut mine," Quinn said. "It looked stupid."

"Brittany doesn't look stupid," Santana said quickly.

"I didn't say she did, I said _I _did. You should learn to listen better." Quinn still sounded annoyed that she was getting her hair done in the first place. "Anyway, Brittany's hair is nicer than mine was. It's wavy."

"Your hair is quite beautiful too, Quinn," Rachel said. "You're lucky you have the bone structure to pull off short hair. I bet it's much more convenient."

"It was, until now," Quinn said. Though she was attempting to sound sarcastic, Santana could hear the pleasure in her voice at Rachel's compliment.

"Well? Rachel?" Brittany asked. "What about your hair?"

"I have pretty thick hair," she said. "But it was never a problem before because, unlike all of you, I was able to wash it every day. It's only recently than I've begun to notice the shortcomings of my hair. And I think it's losing its color, too."

"It looks good to me," Quinn said. "It's a pretty color."

"The sun is bleaching it," Rachel said unhappily. "It's not good to get this much sun. We should really start saving our chores for the mornings and evenings, it would be much better for our skin as well."

"Hmph, whatever," Santana said. "I think we're strong enough to handle it."

Puck came back on the deck, dressed in clean clothes and holding a shiny silver sword. "We're almost at a good spot to drop the anchor," he announced. "Are you girls almost ready?"

"No," Brittany said.

"We have to fix their hair," Rachel added. "It's awful."

Puck frowned. "Well, hurry up," he said. "I'm getting impatient, and you're acting like a bunch of girls."

"They've just been talking about hair this whole time," Finn called out from where he was sitting.

"Shut up, Finn," Quinn muttered.

"We'll be ready as soon as we can," Santana promised him. "And why do you have that sword?"

"Because," Puck said. "I'm dressed as a blacksmith. Can't you tell?"

Santana narrowed her eyes. "No."

"Well, that's why I need the sword. Come on, most guys in towns walk around with swords. Am I right, Brittany?"

"Um. Maybe the Navy men do. Nobody else really does."

"Hmph," Puck said. "Well, whatever, I'm taking it. I just found it in the hull and it's brand new. It needs to be broken in."

"You're not stabbing anyone," Santana said quickly. "We're not here to start fights, we wanna be in and out as quick as possible."

"Well, sure," Puck said. "But it could never hurt to have it just in case." He tucked it into his belt. "How do I look?"

"Dumb," Rachel said immediately. Quinn laughed and Puck glared at the two of them.

"Whatever, you ladies are just jealous," he said. "If a fight breaks out, I'm not going to protect you."

"There's not going to be a fight," Santana said. "More likely, you're just going to use that to pick up girls."

"Either way," Puck continued, "none of you are getting any of my action. I'm going to tell Artie to drop anchor here, we can row the rest of the way to shore."

Brittany walked around to Santana's front and knelt down in front of her, brushing strands of hair out of her face. "You look great," she said. "Much cleaner."

Santana pouted. "Am I usually really dirty or something?"

Brittany smiled. "No. Of course not. Just…piratey."

"What's piratey?" Santana asked.

Brittany leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Santana's lips. "Something I find very attractive. Come on, we need to get ready to leave."

"You guys are vile," Quinn said from beside them.

"Don't listen to her, you're adorable," Rachel said. "I'm glad you've found someone to loosen you up, Santana. You've been positively glowing these last couple of days."

"Don't talk to her like that," Quinn warned, "she might hit you. Again."

Rachel chuckled nervously. "Well, I don't want a repeat of that," she said. "You're all done too, Quinn."

Quinn ran her fingers through her hair. "Thanks," she said. She stood up and turned to look at Rachel, and there was an awkward moment of eye contact between the two of them. Santana watched interestedly. "Well, I need to go," Quinn said. "I'll, uh, see you." Her face fell slightly and Santana knew what Quinn was thinking. She was wondering if she would indeed see Rachel again, or if this would be the last time. And if it was the last time… Santana didn't even want to think about it. She was far from ready to leave Quinn behind.

They lowered the lifeboat and climbed inside. Santana gave the crew their final orders to stay on guard, and when she was sure than Tina was in the crow's nest, they began to row away. She and Puck worked the oars, while Brittany dipped her fingers in the water stared at the fish swimming beneath them. Nobody seemed to feel much like talking.

With Santana and Puck rowing, it took less than ten minutes to get to the shore. They dragged the rowboat onto the sandy beach and hid it within the leaves as best they could. "Do you remember the way?" Santana asked Brittany.

She nodded. "Definitely. Follow me."

They tore their way through the jungle in silence, following the path that Brittany was forging ahead. She had a faraway look in her eye, and Santana wondered if being back in her hometown was giving Brittany flashbacks. She wondered what it would be like to face her own childhood again, after all this time had gone by. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, almost everything from Santana's past had been obliterated. This life was all she had.

It wasn't long before the trees thinned and they found themselves coming out onto a dirt road. Brittany turned to Santana and wordlessly brushed dirt off of her shirt before turning and leading them down the road. "The governor's palace is in a fort," she told them. "We're probably going to see some guards. You should let me do the talking."

"Are you sure?" Santana asked. "We've done this kind of thing before, we can create a distraction…"

Brittany turned around and looked at Santana. Her face was deadly serious. "That won't be necessary," she said.

She sounded so confident that Santana decided not to press it. They walked down the dirt road until they got to a paved one, where there were shops and restaurants and people running errands. The four of them attracted some attention as they marched through town, not stopping to look at anything, making a beeline for the fort. "Is this a small port?" Quinn asked. "It seems like they can all tell we're not from here."

"It's pretty big," Brittany said. "But everyone here is really similar. We can spot an outsider from a mile away. And we're so tan from working outside all day, that's how they know we don't live here."

"Creepy," Puck muttered.

They reached the fort: a large, stone wall penetrable only through a wrought-iron gate. The road led right up to the gate, which was open. However, there was a guard standing by, dressed in an immaculate red uniform and holding a bayonet. Brittany took the lead.

"Hi," she said. "We're here to see Governor St. James."

Santana looked at the guard. He appeared to be younger than all of them, and he seemed uncertain. "I don't think the governor is expecting anybody today," he said. Santana cocked her head to the side. He had a thick Irish accent and it was hard to understand what he was saying.

"I'm an old friend," Brittany said. "He'll know who I am."

"Uh…" The guard looked from Santana to Quinn to Puck, and his eyes lingered on Puck's sword. Santana wanted to punch him in the gut for bringing it. "I don't think I can let you in."

Brittany sighed. "Fine," she said. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to say this, but…I'm Brittany S. Pierce. The governor's daughter. Well, the ex-governor. The one who was in charge before Jesse's dad."

The guard looked at her strangely. "Governor Pierce didn't have a daughter," he said.

"What?" Brittany glanced at Santana in bewilderment. "Yes he did. It's me. I think I would remember my own dad."

"I'm telling you, he didn't have a daughter!"

Santana took a step forward. "Okay, listen up," she said. "…what is your name?"

"Rory Flanagan," the guard said nervously.

"Well Rory Flanagan," she spat. "You're obviously just a child, and I don't know how old you were when Brittany lived here—or if you were dead or maybe retarded or something—but this was her home. She has a lot more right to be here than you do."

"Jesse was my best friend," Brittany piped up. "He's not going to be mad at you."

"The way I see it, you have two options," Santana said threateningly. "You can either let us in, or you can let us in after I've shoved that gun up your ass. Your choice."

"I…um…" Rory swallowed nervously. "Please. I'm new here."

"Dammit, just let us in!" Puck exclaimed.

"What is going on here?"

Santana's head snapped up. She'd been so busy glaring at Rory that she hadn't noticed the three people who had come up behind him. There were two more guards and a third man dressed smartly in a long coat and a dress shirt. The guards gripped their bayonets tighter at the sight of the pirates, but the well-dressed man simply looked curious.

"I'm sorry, governor," Rory said, his lip trembling. "I didn't know what to do—"

"He won't let us in!" Brittany interrupted. Santana glanced over at her. She looked immensely frustrated. "He wasn't a guard when I lived here, he doesn't know—doesn't anyone in this town _remember _me?" She sounded close to tears. Santana made to take her hand, but then she realized something.

"Wait," she said, looking at the man in front of her. "Did he just say 'governor'? Are you—but you're the one we've been looking for!" She looked at him excitedly, but Jesse St. James was completely ignoring her. His eyes were fixed on something to Santana's left, and his jaw dropped slowly. His look of surprise was almost comical.

"Brittany?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: Governor St. James**

Everyone fell silent as Jesse and Brittany looked at each other. Brittany had a look of shock on her face—it was obvious she hadn't recognized him, hadn't expected such an official looking man in place of the twelve year old boy he had been when she'd left. And Jesse looked even more surprised to see Brittany. His jaw was still hanging and he seemed completely unsure of what to say or do.

"I thought you were dead," he said finally. "I—I never expected…" He cleared his throat. "How are you?"

"I'm…fine," Brittany said slowly.

Jesse turned to his guards. "You can make your rounds now," he said. "These people are with me."

"But sir," Rory said. "The gate…"

Jesse looked at him incredulously. "I'll be standing right here," he said. "You can come back when I'm gone."

"Uh. How will I know when you're gone?"

Impatience flashed across Jesse's face and Santana sympathized with him momentarily. "Just walk over there," he thrust his arm out towards the grounds of the palace, "and watch. And when I walk away…come back."

"Yes sir," Rory said quickly. He hurried away, along with the other two guards that had been accompanying Jesse. Santana rolled her eyes.

"That's the last time I put someone new in charge of gate duty," Jesse said. "It's just such a boring job, he's the only one that will take it…oh well." He looked back at Brittany and held his hands out. "Come here," he said, giving her a small smile. "I just can't believe it's you."

Brittany took a tiny step forward, but not enough to allow Jesse to wrap her into a hug. He settled for resting his arms on her shoulders and looking at her reverently. He seemed to have completely forgotten that Santana, Quinn, and Puck were even there.

"You look so different," he said. "You're…so dark." He reached a finger up and traced her cheek lightly, and Brittany instinctively flinched. "You're so beautiful," Jesse continued.

Brittany bit her lip and looked away. "Why did that guard think that Governor Pierce never had a daughter?" she asked. "What's been going on here, Jesse?"

Jesse sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. He glanced at the three of them and then back to Brittany. "Maybe we should go inside," he said. "There are lots of people who would really like to see you. I'll tell Annalisa to prepare a feast."

"I don't want a feast, Jesse," she said. "I just want some questions answered."

Jesse ran his fingers through his hair. "Then maybe we can talk privately," he said. "Do you remember that pond, the one behind the house, where we used to go and catch frogs?"

A hint of a smile flashed across Brittany's eyes, but then it was gone. "Yes," she said.

"They were going to have it filled in, but I wouldn't let them. I've put in a little bench and we planted flowers around it, it's quite beautiful now. You should come see it."

Brittany steeled her jaw and shook her head. "My friends want questions answered, too," she said. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Jesse looked disappointed. "Very well," he said. "Why don't you introduce me to your friends?"

Brittany hesitated, and Santana knew that she was unsure how she should present them to Jesse. They had agreed that, once they began their story, the fact that they were pirates would become painfully obvious. But they didn't want to turn Jesse off right away. "I'm Santana," she offered. "This is Quinn and Puck." No mention of their ship, no title of 'Captain.' Jesse looked curious, but not suspicious.

"Okay," he said. "I can't imagine what you want to talk about, but if it's important, I can take you to my office," he said.

Brittany nodded. "Good idea."

Jesse turned and they followed him briskly up the walkway towards the palace. Santana took the opportunity to examine the place that had once been Brittany's home. She had never seen a house that was more than a few rooms, and this one looked like it could hold upwards of thirty. It was painted white with green trim on the windows and doors, and two pillars framed the large porch and the magnificent doorway. The grounds were grassy and spacious, and Santana could see how they would have been very exciting for Brittany as a small child. But now that she could put a face to Jesse's name, she could only think of him, catching frogs and picking flowers and making Brittany smile in a way that only children can. He saw her when she was bright and joyful, before the horrors that she experienced. It was completely irrational, but Santana suddenly realized that Brittany was not all hers. The Brittany from before, the one who had grown up a governor's daughter, the one who had been truly _happy_, had always belonged to Jesse.

They reached the porch, and Jesse turned to the grounds and nodded at someone. Santana looked over her shoulder in time to see Rory give a quick salute and head back to the gate. "That kid is so strange," Jesse said. "He moved here from Ireland a few years ago," he added to Brittany. "After you…left."

"Oh," Brittany replied.

They went inside, and the foyer was even more beautiful than the outside of the house would suggest. The ceiling was two stories high and held a huge chandelier, with hanging crystal icicles that made rainbows as they reflected the sunlight that streamed in through the large windows. There was an enormous curved staircase right in front of them, but Jesse led them away from it, towards a wooden door on their left side. He opened it and motioned them all inside. Santana found herself in a large room, lined with bookshelves and furnished with a huge desk and several green, stuffed chairs. "Please sit down," Jesse said, walking around to the back of his desk. "Can I get you something to drink?"

He looked around, and everyone shook their heads. There were three chairs, and Puck and Quinn immediately took two of them. Santana motioned to Brittany to take the third, but she shook her head. After Santana sat down, Brittany squeezed in beside her, sitting partially on her lap. Jesse seemed taken aback by their intimacy, and he looked at Santana as though seeing her properly for the first time.

"So what can I do for you?" he asked. He directed his question towards Santana, and she didn't entirely like the look in his eye.

"Well," she began. She cleared her throat. Santana had been practicing what she was going to say in her head as they had been rowing to shore, and now was the time to put her skills into action. "We—"

"What have you been telling people about me?" Brittany interrupted.

Jesse cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Have you told them that I was sent away and that you refused to come find me? Or are you just saying that I ran away, never to be heard from again, probably died." Her voice was starting to shake and Santana reached behind her to place a comforting hand on her back. "How come Rory knew about my dad but didn't know about me? Is it easier for you to pretend I don't even exist?"

Jesse swallowed hard. "It was a complicated situation, Brittany," he said. "We had no idea where you were taken—"

"Bullshit," Brittany said, and Santana's eyes widened in surprise at the venom in Brittany's voice. She reached for Brittany's hand with the arm that wasn't behind Brittany's back, but Brittany waved her away. "What about Tanaka, what about everyone else on that ship, they all knew where I was. They _all _knew."

"We had a lot going on here," Jesse continued, his voice heavy. "We didn't know—I was just a child, Brittany, you can't blame me for anything! You don't know what it was like, after your father died. It was chaos."

"I should have been back here _months _before my father died!" Her voice broke and Santana could see tears forming in her eyes.

"There were pirates baring down on us. We couldn't spare the men." Jesse's voice was getting quieter and quieter as the tears fell down Brittany's cheeks. "I was angry too. I missed you," he said. "But when I became governor, I saw why your father and then my father made the decisions that they did. Until you've run a port, Brittany…there are some things you just can't understand."

"There are some things _you _just can't understand!" Brittany replied. She was crying full-on and Santana began to rub her back slowly. Quinn was looking at Brittany with deep concern, and Puck was eyeing Jesse as though he longed to use his new sword on him.

"Baby," Santana whispered. "It's okay."

"It's not okay." Brittany turned and buried her face in Santana's shoulder. "It's not okay at all."

Jesse looked at her sadly. "I know," he said quietly. "Believe me, I know."

Santana wanted to take his inadequate apology and shove it up his ass, but it was important for them to have Jesse on their side if they needed his help. Instead, she wrapped her arm protectively around Brittany's shoulders and said, "Help us. It's the least you can do."

"I'll try," Jesse replied with a nod.

"We need you to tell us where you've hidden the Elixir of Life," she said.

Jesse's face hardened. "That, I cannot do."

"But we don't want to use it," Santana protested. "We think someone else is after it, and we need to find them. They've kidnapped our friend."

"And why would anyone interested in the Elixir kidnap your friend?" Jesse's look of sadness changed quickly to one of suspicion. "Who exactly are you?"

"The men who want to take the Elixir are Navy men," Santana said. "We believe they've gone corrupt. They took our friend because they thought he had information that could lead them to the treasure."

"What kind of information?" Jesse asked. "There are only a few people who know the location of the Elixir—myself, and my most trusted advisors. None of your 'friends' could ever know."

"But you don't know everything, do you?" Quinn asked suddenly. "You can't open it, can you?"

Jesse narrowed his eyes at her. "The key and the chest are traditionally kept in the care of different people, so as not to allow anyone to access the Elixir," he said. "It's not our fault that we cannot open it."

"But someone else can," Quinn said. She glanced at Santana, and Santana nodded. "These people we're talking about, we have reason to believe that they have the key."

Jesse looked at her for a long time. "That's impossible," he said finally. "They key is lost."

"It's not." Brittany pulled her face from Santana's shoulder and dried her eyes. "It's not lost, we saw it. And it was taken from us."

"This is serious business," Jesse said. "If you're correct…the consequences of this…"

"We're not lying," Santana said. "We think they have the key, and that they'll stop at nothing to get ahold of the Elixir. It's important that we find them."

Jesse stood up and walked over to the window. He gazed out. "Tell me," he said. "How was it that your friend came by the key in the first place?"

"We'd rather not talk about it," Santana said.

"Well then I'd rather not help you," Jesse replied.

"But your Elixir is in danger!" Santana protested angrily. "You—you just said, the consequences—"

"_If _they can open it," Jesse said. "And right now, that doesn't seem likely. There are other protections," he raised his voice over Santana's as she tried to speak yet again, "that you obviously don't know about. This isn't a treasure hunt." He turned and looked at Santana. "Port Carmel has been entrusted with the Elixir for a long time. We take our job seriously."

"But you seemed worried about it just a minute ago," Quinn said.

"I was simply surprised," Jesse said, "that anybody knew about the Elixir. Now, what is the name of this government ship gone rogue?"

"The _Dalton_," Santana said.

Jesse was quiet for a while. "I've never heard of them," he said finally. "And you say they took your friend because he had the key to the Elixir?"

"Yes."

"I _am _curious to know about the key," he said. "Why don't you tell me how he found it, and then I'll see what I can do to help you find your friend?"

"Okay," Santana said. "Deal. Brittany?"

Brittany took a deep breath. "I had it," she said. "You gave to me. You said it would make a pretty necklace."

Jesse's eyes grew wide. "Oh my God," he said. "I remember that. I had no idea at the time, that—that's…" he cleared his throat. "That's incredible."

"But I lost it," Brittany said. "I…I bet it, in a poker game, and I lost. I didn't know it was valuable."

Jesse shook his head. "That's why we always said not to gamble, Brittany," he said. "It never leads to anything good."

"Oh really? And your experience in these matters comes from where?" Santana challenged.

Jesse looked at her as though she were a very annoying bug. "I'm sorry Brittany," he said. "Please continue."

"The men I lost it to were from the _Dalton_, but I didn't know that at the time," she said. "They gave it to their captain, who later became a friend of ours. And then they kidnapped him one day to get it back."

"They kidnapped their old captain?"

"He had deserted them," Quinn explained. "They were mad."

"Are you sure?" Jesse asked. "Maybe he went with them willingly."

"We're sure," Puck said coldly, before anyone else had a chance to speak. "He's our friend."

"Ah, I see," Jesse said. "And what about the Pirates' Code? Anyone who gets left behind stays behind, am I right?"

"We have higher standards than that," Quinn said. "We don't believe in the Pirates' Code."

"Quinn…" Santana began. She shook her head quickly, wishing she could force Quinn's words back into her mouth. But the damage was done.

"So you _are _pirates, then?" Jesse asked. His lips curved upwards into a smile. "I knew it."

"No," Santana said quickly. "We're not."

"There's no use protesting now, I've already got you figured out. I'm not really surprised," he said, "except at you, Brittany. I thought you had more sense than that." He looked critically at her, still wrapped in Santana's arms. "The heart wants what the heart wants, I suppose."

"It sure does," Brittany said, glaring at him. Jesse managed a small laugh.

"You really should stay here," he said. "You can move back into the palace. I think we have your old room available. Trade in those silly clothes for your fancy dresses."

"I don't like wearing dresses," Brittany said.

"You can eat good food, have people waiting on you, and you won't even have to do anything. I bet you do a lot of work on that ship, don't you?"

"I like working," Brittany said. "It makes me feel good about myself. And I like being on a ship."

"I have lots of ships," Jesse said. "All at my disposal. I can take you anywhere you want to go."

"Stop trying to convince her," Santana snapped. "She said she doesn't want to live here."

Jesse looked at her angrily. "It's Brittany's choice, of course," he said. "Not mine and…not yours."

"Santana's right," Brittany said. "I'm not staying here with you."

"Fine," Jesse said. "That reminds me, though, there's one other thing I want to show you." He walked across the room, behind them, to the door. He opened it and gave a whistle. "He should be here momentarily…"

Santana twisted in her chair to see what Jesse was looking for. He stuck his head out and stared down the hallway, and moments later, he began to smile.

"Here he is," he said, stepping aside.

Santana saw nothing. But Brittany suddenly gasped. "Tubbs?" she said, jumping up off Santana's lap. "Oh my God, it's you!" She hurried towards the door and Santana looked down, just in time to see the cat skulking around by Jesse's legs before Brittany had engulfed it in a hug. "Oh Tubbers, I can't believe you're still alive," she murmured, kissing his fur. "And you're still so fat…"

Jesse closed the door and smiled triumphantly. "He's thrilled to see you," he said. "Cats just don't do well without their owners. It's a shame, isn't it?" He looked at Santana. "So lonely, for all these years…"

"I think he'll be fine," Santana muttered. But she didn't tear her eyes from Brittany, who was now pressing kisses to her cat's furry head as though it were the only thing in the world that she cared about. Angrily, Santana turned back to Jesse. "All manipulation aside, we've upheld our end of the deal. You have to uphold yours."

Jesse walked back around so that he was on the other side of his desk. He placed his hands on the surface and looked at Santana searchingly. "It's impossible," he said finally. "I don't know where the _Dalton _is, but they aren't at the location of the Elixir. I can promise you that."

Santana's hands balled into fists. "That's it?" she asked. "That's all you're going to say, that you can't help me?"

Jesse smirked. "As a pirate, you should be used to this kind of negotiation. I had more faith in you than this."

Santana was furious. "Tell me," she demanded. "Tell me where the treasure is."

"It's not going to help you!" Jesse said. "I can tell you one thing with certainty: there is no way the men on the _Dalton _could ever know its location. My men are honest and immune to bribery. And furthermore, that ship has not come here seeking any information. So it's safe to say that they don't know where they're going."

"You're awful," Santana said. "You're a lying scumbag and you hurt Brittany and now you want her back here so you can hurt her again. We may be pirates, but we're a thousand times more honorable than you are."

"I don't care how badly you want to save your friend, you're a pirate and nothing you do is going to change that," Jesse said. "You're scum. All of your people are. You're dirty and disgusting and you visit brothels and drink rum and you're nothing but trash to me. You can't give Brittany what I can give her. If you really cared about her, you would let her stay here with me, where she belongs."

"Now wait just a minute," Puck said, standing up from his chair. "You watch what you say to her."

"Why should I?" Jesse challenged. "Are you going to stab me? That sword looks brand new—tell me, how many times have you been in combat?"

"Forget this sword, I'll rip you up with my bare hands," Puck snarled.

"There's four of us and one of you," Quinn added. "You really think you can talk like that to us and get away unharmed?

"There are _three _of you," Jesse corrected. He nodded towards Brittany and they turned to look. She was clutching Lord Tubbington to her chest and looking at them worriedly. The girl who had yelled at Jesse was completely gone—she looked ten years old again. Santana felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She couldn't lose Brittany to this man. She wouldn't let it happen.

"Doesn't matter," Puck said. "I don't need any backup, I can take you on by myself."

"And I could have you all thrown in prison and hanged for piracy," Jesse retorted. "Don't forget whose house you're in right now. You may be powerful on the seas, but here, you're just another criminal." He looked at Santana. "You're the captain, I'm assuming. What is your ship called, anyway?"

"It's called the _McKinley_," Santana spat. "And I'm Captain Santana Lopez."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Lopez?" he asked. "As in, Carlos Lopez's daughter?"

"That's right—" Santana began. Then she froze, and her heart dropped into her stomach. "How do you know my dad?"

Jesse smiled menacingly. "Oh, we all know Carlos Lopez," he said. "He's the one who murdered Governor Pierce."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25: Rescue at Last**

Santana felt like all the air had been punched out of her lungs.

She could do nothing but gape at Jesse, she couldn't even open her mouth to speak, couldn't even turn around and look at Brittany. Jesse's triumphant face swam in front of her as she wrapped her arms around her mid-section and struggled to breathe. She needed to say something, but she didn't know how.

"You're lying," Quinn said finally. Her voice sounded far away, as though it were traveling through water.

"I'm not lying at all," Jesse said. "Santana knows I'm right, don't you?"

"Well then it's irrelevant," Puck said. "We made a deal with you, you have to tell us how we can get to that treasure. We need to find the _Dalton_."

"Wait, just hold on a second," Quinn said. "This…this can't be true. Santana's dad couldn't have killed Brittany's."

"Why would you say that?" Jesse asked.

"I…" Quinn trailed off.

Santana wanted to shout that it was impossible, that Jesse had to be lying. But the more she thought about it, the more plausible his story became. Her parents had often gone on raids and left Santana on the ship, where she stayed below the deck and played cards with the crewmembers that had remained behind. She hardly went outside to look at the ports they were visiting, and there was no way for her to tell one from the other. The crew of the _Lima Heights_ went at night, they snuck in while everybody was sleeping—there had even been times when Santana hadn't known they were gone. She would go to sleep while they were docked and wake up in the middle of the ocean, and that was alright with her. If her parents had been seeking the Elixir of Life, well…she would have had no idea.

Santana did some quick math in her head, her heart racing faster every second. Brittany had been ten years old when her father had been killed. She lived with Tanaka until she was thirteen. Then she had hopped from place to place for five years before joining Karofsky's ship, where she was abused by him for at least five months. She was probably about nineteen, making her older than Santana by a matter of months. When Santana was ten, her parents had been hitting ports with their crew at a rate of about one per week. Had they stopped in Port Carmel long enough to participate in the skirmish that had driven Brittany from her home, long enough for Santana's dad to fire the shot that had taken Governor Pierce's life?

It was more than just possible; it was likely.

"It doesn't matter what Santana's dad did," Puck said. "It matters that she's here now, asking you for a favor. We don't even want the Elixir. The way I see it, we should be allies. The _Dalton _is trying to hurt both of us."

"I've never found much wisdom in dealing with pirates," Jesse said. "And since they've taken more from you than they have from me, I see no reason why I should team up with you. Until I believe that they actually know where the Elixir is, I have very little responsibility to help anyone." He walked around to the front of the desk and knelt down by Santana's chair. "Here kitty," he said, holding out his hand.

Santana looked down and saw Lord Tubbington walk up to Jesse and sniff his fingers cautiously. She chanced a glance back at Brittany and saw that her arms had gone slack. She was staring down at the ground, not moving a muscle. Santana felt blood pounding in her ears.

"We need to get out of here," she whispered.

"Santana…" Quinn began. Santana refused to look at her.

"He's not going to help us," she said, her voice cracking. "We need to go."

"A little awkward, isn't it, now that you know what your family did," Jesse said. "Kind of makes you wish you never came here in the first place, doesn't it? I ought to have you hanged for his crimes, since we never got to punish him. Unless, of course, he's still alive." He looked at Santana, and she refused to look back. "I didn't think so."

"You shut the hell up!" Quinn said. "Stop it, we have no reason to believe you."

"He knew his name," Puck said quietly. Santana turned to look at him, and he shrugged. "Jesse knew your dad's name."

"I did," Jesse said with a nod. "Because we kept him here in prison for twelve hours. We were going to hang him at dawn, but he escaped from right under our noses. Sound familiar?" He looked at Santana. "Face the truth, honey. I knew your father."

"Okay, that's enough," Quinn said. "Santana's right, we should go. Brittany. Brittany!"

Santana turned around once again to look at Brittany, but she was still sitting in the exact same position. Santana had to say something, _anything_, to assure her that somehow everything would be okay—but how could she? Everything was _not _okay, it hadn't been okay for a long time. There was nothing Santana could do to change that fact. She willed herself to stand, but she couldn't seem to detach herself from the chair.

There was a knock on the door. Jesse stopped absentmindedly stroking Lord Tubbington and got to his feet, crossing the office in several large steps. He pulled open the door to reveal Rory standing on the other side. "Sir," Rory said. "You have another visitor, he's with them." Rory motioned feebly towards Santana. Jesse turned around.

"Are you expecting anyone else?" he asked.

Quinn shook her head. "No."

Rory moved aside, and another man stepped into the doorway. Puck gasped. Quinn shrieked. Santana forgot all about her father as she sprang out of her chair and clenched her fists. "You," she hissed.

"Me." Captain Sebastian Smythe smirked as he glanced around the room at all of them. "So you _are _here. I heard rumors but I never thought I'd be lucky enough to get to see you again. What a lovely coincidence."

"Is he with you?" Jesse demanded. "Do you know this man?"

"We know him but he's not with us," Puck said. "This is the captain of the _Dalton_. He's the one we were telling you about."

Jesse rounded on Rory. "How could you let him in here?" he demanded.

"But sir," Rory said, "you were angry with me when I tried to stop them," he pointed at Brittany, "so I thought it would be okay if I let him in. He asked if a group had come in earlier and then said that he was supposed to meet them and I thought…"

"You _never _let anyone in here without an appointment, unless I know them personally!" Jesse shouted. "A breach of security like this is incredibly dangerous!"

"But how will I know when you know them personally?" Rory looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"I don't care!" Jesse said. "Just get him out of here."

"There's no need," Sebastian said calmly. "I'll see myself out. I just wanted to come here give my congratulations to the new Captain Santana. I would have introduced myself to you as well," he said to Jesse, "but it seems like my friends have already done that for me."

"Okay, you've said what you need to say," Jesse said. "Now leave, please."

"Oh, I'm happy to," Sebastian replied. "I've got an important place to be, after all."

"Where's Blaine?" Quinn demanded. "Is he hurt?"

"Wait, where do you have to be?" Jesse asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Where exactly is your crew going?"

Sebastian looked at Quinn. "Blaine is fine," he said. "We're keeping him very happy in the brig. We would give him back to you but, well…I think he'd be happier with us, to be honest. After all, when we've got what we're looking for, the _Dalton _is going to be the most fearsome ship in the seas. Everyone else will either stay on our good side or face our wrath, and I daresay it's too late for the _McKinley_ to attempt the former."

"You son of a bitch," Puck said. "There's no way you're getting that Elixir."

"Hold on a moment," Jesse said. "No one will be getting anything, you don't even know where it is. I don't know which port you're working for, but you're under an agreement not to touch the Elixir. It belongs to Port Carmel, and if any other port takes it, we will consider it an act of war."

Sebastian shook his head. "You stupid man," he said. "We're not working for anyone, and we're certainly not worried about war. We're going to have the Elixir of Life. We'll be _immortal_."

Jesse's face turned red. "You'll never get it," he said.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," Sebastian replied. "We have the key and we're about to set sail. We have all the information we need. One of your men proved to be very easily persuaded."

Jesse's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "You—my men—you know where to find the Elixir?" He turned to Rory. "I want you to gather every guard on duty, tell them this is an emergency!" he said. "Ready the ships, we're not letting the _Dalton _leave port."

Rory nodded quickly. "Which ship, sir?" he asked.

"The _Vocal Adrenaline_ of course, " Jesse said. "Come on, hurry up, we're leaving in five minutes!"

"All of this is beside the point," Santana said, finally finding her voice. "We need to find Blaine, that's the only reason we're here. Are you going to give him back to us or are we going to have to take him by force?"

Sebastian just laughed. "There's no hope," he said. "For either of you. The _Dalton _is going to leave the moment I get back to it, and you'll never catch up. And as for the _McKinley_, well…I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't even a ship for you to go back to."

Santana's blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we found you, anchored in your little cove." Sebastian licked his lips. "And my men are launching an attack on your ship as we speak."

Chaos broke out immediately. Santana did not remember making a conscious decision to move, all she remembered was running forwards, shoving Sebastian roughly as she ran through the doorway and into the foyer. She could hear Jesse's muffled shouting and was vaguely aware of Quinn-sized footsteps running behind her, but she didn't look back as she shoved the grand doors open and hurried outside.

Guards were beginning to assemble on the lawn, clearly tuned-in to the fact that there was trouble. A few of them called to Santana as she ran by, but she ignored them, her feet slapping the pavement as she ran down the road and back to the gate through which they had entered. Puck was calling to her but she ignored him too, leaving the fort and hurrying back through the town. People jumped out of her way as she passed, and she turned from the main rode to run along a side one, where there would be fewer crowds to hinder her progress. She spotted a blacksmith's shop and slowed to a halt, breathing heavily. For the first time, she turned around. No one was in sight. She just hoped her friends were getting back to the ship by a different route.

She snuck into the shop and peeked around, making sure nobody was there. Swords of all shapes and sizes were hanging by the door and Santana took the largest one, slipping it easily into her belt. There was a pistol on the side table and she grabbed it as well, for good measure. Then she left the shop as quietly as she'd came in, and started running again once she was back on the road.

Her lungs felt like they were going to burst by the time she got to the jungle, but she pressed onward, hurrying through the trees as fast as her legs would take her. Branches scratched at her cheeks and tore the arms of her shirt, but she ignored the pinching pain and kept up her pace. Her crew was in trouble. That was the only thought going through her mind. Nothing else seemed to matter.

She finally reached the edge of the water and looked out to where her ship was. She gasped. The _Dalton _was right alongside it, and the sounds of yelling and swords clanging were audible from where she stood. A canon fired, and part of the _McKinley's _hull splintered. Santana glanced at the rowboat. Quinn, Puck, and Brittany would need it, and if she went in it, she would be a sitting duck if anyone on the _Dalton _had a gun. Swimming would be faster and more discreet…without a second thought, Santana waded into the water and began to swim. She forced her exhaustion out of her mind and paddled forward, kicking her legs furiously. As she got closer and closer, pieces of driftwood began to float by her, and she could only hope that some of them had come from the _Dalton_.

She reached the ladder on the side of her ship, which was thankfully facing away from the _Dalton_, and she didn't waste a moment climbing up. As soon as she had grabbed the railing, strong hands gripped her arms and began to pull her the rest of the way up. It was Kurt. He was panting and there was a large gash on his forehead, but he looked at Santana with great relief.

"Thank God you're here," he said as she swung her leg over and pulled herself onto the deck. "It's been crazy—they swung over to our deck on ropes—there's people below trying to shoot the cannons, but I don't think—watch out!"

Santana barely had time to duck before a sword came swinging over her head. Kurt countered it with the end of his bayonet and Santana rolled out of the way just in time to see Kurt fire a shot into the _Dalton_ boy's arm. He cried out and grabbed his arm, hurrying away towards the railing. "Nice," Santana gasped.

"I'm a lousy shot, didn't even kill him," Kurt said, shaking his head.

"Is anybody hurt?"

"Not that I know of. Come on!" He ran towards the quarter deck and Santana unsheathed her sword and followed him. Sam was engaged in a swordfight up there, and she pulled out her pistol before remembering that her little swim had completely soaked the powder. She hurled the weapon at the _Dalton _crewmember instead, barely missing Sam's head in the process. It hit the Navy man smack on the forehead and caused him to stagger backwards, giving Sam enough time to gain the upper hand. Sam pressed his blade to the man's throat and turned.

"I've—I never killed anyone before," he said in a shaky voice, looking at Santana.

"There's a first time for everything," she said. "Do it!"

"I don't know…"

"If you want to be a pirate, do it now," she said, whirling around as more men stormed the ship. She swung her sword wildly, forcing them back. "Sam!" she cried out as a blade slid along the skin of her forearm. "Please!"

She heard a scream, followed by the unique sound of a sword entering flesh. She turned around to see Sam with his arm outstretched, his face white and his hand shaking as he held the end of his sword firmly in the man's chest. "I did it," he breathed.

The man behind Santana took another swing at her and Santana turned and kicked him down the stairs. "Good job," she gasped, clapping Sam on the back. "Good."

She went back down to the quarter deck, where Artie had impaled a man with one of his peg legs. "I'm stuck!" he cried out, and Santana hurried over to him. Artie shook his leg fiercely, but it was lodged deep within the corpse. "I think it's stuck on his rib…"

"It's okay," she said. "I got you." She put his hands under his armpits and pulled as hard as she could. "Holy shit, it's really stuck."

"Heads up!" Artie shouted, and a moment later, a cannonball hit the deck about a foot away from them. Santana looked at it curiously and then looked up. Tina was in the crow's nest, holding another cannonball in her hand and surveying the deck carefully.

"Watch where you drop those!" Santana yelled.

"Sorry!" Tina shouted back. She dropped the second cannonball, and this time it hit a _Dalton _man smack on the head. He fell to the deck immediately; whether he was unconscious or dead, Santana wasn't sure. One thing was certain; he would no longer be joining the fray. One more down…

"Santana!" a voice cried out. Santana turned around to see Quinn scrambling over the railing. "Where is Rachel?" she gasped.

"Haven't seen her," Santana said. "Help me with Artie, please. He's stuck."

Quinn grabbed Artie's other arm and together they heaved until he came free. "Thank you," he gasped, balancing precariously on his pegs as he scanned the deck. "Have you seen my sword?"

"Here," Quinn said, grabbing a sword off of a nearby box and thrusting it into his hands. "I've gotta find Rachel…"

"Wait," Santana said as Quinn began to move towards the hatch. "Where is Puck?"

"Tying the boat to the ladder," Quinn said as she began to climb down. "We may need it, can never be too careful." She disappeared below the deck and Santana had no time to ask about Brittany. Another man came up behind her and she turned quickly to block the swing of his sword.

She dueled with the _Dalton _bou for several long minutes, until the tip of his sword penetrated just above her belt. She cried out and swung her arm violently, inadvertently knocking the weapon out of his hands. Ignoring the pain by her hip, she forced her opponent to the ground. Just as she was about to deliver the final blow, she heard Puck screaming her name.

"Santana!" Santana looked up to see him standing on the railing closest to the _Dalton_, holding one of the ropes that the men had been using to swing themselves across. "Come on!" he yelled.

"What are you doing?" she called back.

"Blaine!"

Santana left the man on the deck and shoved her sword back into its sheath. She climbed up the railing quickly and wrapped her arms around Puck's neck. "Alright," she said. "Let's do this."

"You're bleeding all over," he said breathlessly.

"I'm fine, go!"

Puck kicked off from the railing and they swung across, onto the deck of the _Dalton_. Most of their men were on the _McKinley_'s deck, and the two of them were able to run over to the hatch and duck inside without being assaulted. "I don't know how to get to the brig…" Puck muttered. "This ship looks different than ours."

"Well standing here won't do anything," Santana snapped, feeling her pain more acutely now that she was no longer in the heat of battle. "Come on, and be quiet. There's gotta be more men down here manning the cannons."

They crept quickly along the hallway, down one corridor and then another. Santana was beginning to get nervous. If too many men found them here, they were done for. They could easily be outnumbered.

"Where did you go after I ran off?" she whispered.

"We followed you," Puck replied. "Then Rory showed us a faster way out of the fort. You still beat us, though, because you were so far ahead."

"What about Brittany?"

Puck looked at her apologetically. "She followed us out of the house," he said. "But then all these guards started assembling, and Quinn and I followed Rory, and she got separated from us."

"Oh." Santana's throat went dry.

"I wouldn't worry about her," Puck said. "She knows the layout of the town."

They passed by cabins and bunks, finally reaching the point where they'd started. "Blaine," Santana called out quietly. "Blaine, where are you?"

"Shh," Puck said. "Let's try to go down further."

They found another ladder and went into a place that appeared to be the cargo hold. "Blaine!" she called out a little louder. "Can you hear me?"

There was a sound of a sword being unsheathed, and Santana turned around just in time to see a Navy man step out from behind a box and take a swing at her. Puck jumped in front with his own sword and blocked the blow, and Santana lifted her leg to kick him hard in the stomach. He stumbled back and hit his head on a box, falling unconscious to the ground.

"Good job," Puck said. "Now can you please stop yelling? You're only attracting attention."

"Sorry," Santana said, but as she spoke she heard a faint sound. "Wait, quiet."

She strained her ears as she heard the faint sound of talking. At first, it sounded like gibberish, but then she was able to make out her name. "Santana," the voice called out quietly. "Santana, is that you?"

"Blaine!" Santana cried out. She followed the sound of the voice through the cargo hold, Puck following close on her heels.

"Santana!" The voice grew louder and more confident as Santana got closer, and soon she turned a corner and found herself in a room lined with cells.

"Blaine!" she shouted wildly.

"Santana!" She followed the sound to the corner of the room and gasped. Leaning against the bars in the corner cell, looking exhausted but very much alive, was Blaine. His eyes lit up as Santana approached and he reached for her, sticking his fingers through the gap in the bars. Santana knelt down and grasped them tightly in her hand, looking at Blaine in relief.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Blaine said. "I'm okay now, you found me." He looked up at Puck and then back at Santana, and gave a tired smile. "You finally found me."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26: A Fatal Blow**

Blaine stared at Santana in awe. "I never thought I would see you here," he said. "Is that the _McKinley _they're firing at? I heard cannon blasts."

"It is," Santana said. "And we've got to go back, there's way more of them than there are of us."

"How can we get you outta here?" Puck asked, shaking the bars of the brig. They held firm.

"They keep the keys hanging on the wall by the entrance somewhere," Blaine said, pointing in the direction from which they'd come. Puck hurried over and Santana tried to pull herself to her feet. She winced. "Are you okay?"

"I just got a little cut, it's nothing," she said, pressing her hand to her wound. "You're the one who should be answering that question. Did they hurt you?"

Blaine shook his head. "They didn't," he said. "They just kept me in here. But Santana…I have to explain something to you."

"Is it about your key?" she asked. "The Elixir of Life? We already know."

Blaine looked at her with wide eyes. "You know? But how?"

"Got them!" Puck hurried back over, a ring of keys dangling from his hand. "There's no time to explain, we've gotta go back to our ship. The _McKinley _wasn't holding up too well, last I saw." He tried several different keys in the lock of Blaine's cell.

"Where are we, anyway?" Blaine asked. "They wouldn't tell me where we were going."

"Port Carmel," Santana said. Puck found the key that fit snugly in the lock and gave it a triumphant twist.

"You're free!" he exclaimed.

"Thank God." Blaine stumbled out of the cell and wrapped his arms around Santana and Puck's shoulders. Santana gave him a quick squeeze.

"It's good to have you back, Blaine," she said fondly. "Wasn't the same without you."

There was a crash from overhead and the three of them looked up. "Let's go," Puck said quickly. Blaine nodded and let go of them, and Puck led the way back through the labyrinth of the ship.

When they got back onto the deck of the _Dalton_, they were greeted by more enemy crewmembers. They shouted when they saw that Blaine was getting away, and Santana whipped out her sword. "Hurry!" she shouted to him. "Find a rope and swing across!"

The _Dalton_ men that had been on the _McKinley _seemed to be trying to head back to their own ship, and it didn't take long for Santana to see why. There was a third ship approaching them from the edge of the cove, almost twice the size of the _McKinley _with massive white sails. It had to be Jesse's ship, and though Santana didn't know which of them Jesse was going to go after first, she knew it was time to leave. As she fought off another _Dalton _boy, she saw that Blaine had grabbed a rope to go over to the _McKinley_. "Come on, San!" he shouted.

Santana turned to go, but was stopped by the sound of a sword unsheathing behind her. "You again," said a familiar drawl, and Santana turned to see that Sebastian had made his way back to his ship. The side of his coat was stained with blood, and she felt a sinking sensation as she wondered whose blood it was.

"Get outta here," she said. "St. James is coming, we're going. You should be, too."

"I can take that idiot any day of the week," Sebastian replied, taking a menacing step towards her. "You're not getting out of her with my prisoner."

He swung his sword at her and she had just enough time to lift her own to block the blow. The impact sent a vibration through her arm that strained her muscles and almost made her drop her weapon. She heard pounding footsteps behind her. "Go!" Puck yelled, swinging his sword over Santana's head and narrowly missing Sebastian's neck. "Go, I've got him!"

"No, Puck," Santana began.

"GET OUT!" Puck yelled at her. He tried to hit Sebastian again, but Sebastian blocked him.

"Stop Blaine!" he cried out to his crew. "Stop him at all costs!"

Santana looked up at Blaine, still waiting for her on the railing, and slid her sword back into her belt. She sprinted towards the edge of the ship, just as some of the _Dalton _men took aim at him with their bayonets. "Go, go!" she cried out, making a running jump up to the railing. She overshot and found herself on a trajectory to clear the railing entirely and plunge right into the sea. But Blaine began his swing at just the right moment and was able to get a steady arm around her waist. She cried out as he pressed harshly on her wound, but the pain became the least of her worries as they crashed unceremoniously into the deck on the other side. She hit her knee and the side of her head, and at once, she saw stars.

Pain flooded through her entire body, and she didn't move until strong arms grabbed her right under the armpits. They lifted her up to a standing position and Santana saw that Mike was the one who had rescued her. He stood her on her feet and looked at her with concern.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

Santana swayed awkwardly and nodded. She felt like a rag doll. "Where is Puck?" she gasped.

"He's coming," Mike said, and Santana turned around to look at the deck of the _Dalton_. Puck was still engaged in combat with Sebastian, but he was slowly making his way up to the quarter deck, where he could find a rope to swing back to the _McKinley_. Most of the men had left their ship and had gone back to their own, though there was still one in the corner fighting with Quinn. As Santana watched, Rachel went up behind him and hit him hard with a broken piece of wood. It wasn't enough to knock him out, but it did distract him long enough to allow Quinn to get a few blows in.

"You need to get inside," Mercedes said from beside Santana. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," Santana said. "We need to set sail as soon as we can. Where is everyone else?"

"Below, pulling in the cannons," Mercedes said. "We know, we're setting sail right away. But you need to go into your cabin. Please. If you stand here any longer, you're going to pass out." She looked Santana up and down. "Where is that blood coming from?" she asked, pointing to Santana's shirt.

Santana opened her mouth to reply, but she was distracted by movement near the hull. She whirled around, fearing it was a _Dalton _man, but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only Kurt. Kurt saw Santana and started to come towards her, but then he stopped. His eyes settled on something behind her head, and his jaw started to drop.

"Kurt?" said a strangled voice from behind Santana.

Kurt looked dazed. "Blaine," he replied, taking several large steps forward. Santana watched as Blaine moved to meet Kurt halfway. They came to a stop in the middle of the deck, and for a moment, all they did was stare. Then Kurt tried to speak, and Blaine threw his arms around Kurt's neck and started to kiss him.

Kurt kissed him back with equal fervor, and Santana watched them dazedly. She could see tears squeezing their way out of the corners of Kurt's closed eyes, and for a wild moment, she wanted to cry too. They had Blaine back, Kurt was happy again, but…no. The tightness in her chest wasn't for the two of them. It was for Brittany. She wanted the girl that she could kiss like that. Where the hell _was _she?

Puck landed on the deck with a thud and Santana tore her eyes away from the happy couple. She looked up at him and his eyes sought her out immediately. He brushed himself off and gave a triumphant smile. She began to return it, but suddenly she saw Sebastian grab Puck's rope as it swung back to the _Dalton_. He wrapped his arms around it and Santana cried, "Watch out!" Puck stepped out of the way, just as Sebastian landed where Puck had once been.

Santana took her sword out in a flash, and her head started spinning as she did so. She took one lurching step in Sebastian's direction and immediately felt Mercedes's hands on her back. "Sit," Mercedes hissed as Sebastian began dueling with Puck once again. Santana refused, but she did hold back as the two of them fought. Sebastian moved towards his man that was still tangled up with Quinn and Rachel. "Come on Nick!" he said. "We're going back!"

Sebastian had clearly decided that he was too outnumbered by the crew of the _McKinley_, and he shoved Puck roughly away. Nick turned away from Quinn to meet Sebastian by the railing, and the two of them had just grabbed a rope when Quinn hit Nick hard from behind with the flat end of her sword. He stumbled forwards and collapsed against the railing. "Nice one Quinnie!" Santana shouted.

Quinn smiled widely and turned to give Santana a thumbs up. She was still smiling as Sebastian stomped towards her angrily. Santana barely had time to give a warning, all she had time to do was open her mouth in horror as Sebastian pointed his blade at Quinn. He drove his sword deep into her stomach and yanked it back out again. For a moment, it almost seemed like Quinn was okay. Then her mouth opened in a soundless scream, and blood began to seep onto her shirt as her knees buckled.

Santana didn't see any more than that. The sky gave a mighty lurch and Santana felt her head hit the deck for the second time in the last few minutes. Her vision blurred and she saw dark shapes moving quickly above her. The air was filled with screams and yells and the sound of swords clanging, and she tried to move to get up. But her arms and legs felt paralyzed, and she could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming on as she lay helplessly on the deck. The cries around her intensified, and as her vision went in and out, she heard one horrifying sound above all of them. "QUINN!" Rachel screamed. "OH MY GOD, QUINN!"

"We need to get her into her cabin," came Mercedes's voice from right above her, and a moment later, one of the blurs was leaning down over her. Another set of arms scooped her up, carrying her like a baby, and Santana blinked hard until his face came into focus. It was Puck.

"Puck," she said weakly. "Put me down."

"No," he said firmly. "I'm taking you to your room."

"But Quinn…" Santana suddenly realized there were tears streaming down her face. "Quinn…"

"Santana, please," Puck said firmly, and she could tell by the sound of his strained voice that he was trying to keep his emotions in check. "Just be quiet," he said. "You need to lie down."

He came to a stop and Santana tipped forward slightly in his arms as he reached to open her door. A moment later, they were inside the cabin, and Puck put her down on the bed.

"Stay here," he said. Then he was gone.

Santana waited until he was out of the room before trying to move. The ceiling seemed to be moving above her and she took deep breaths until her surroundings settled. Then she heaved herself onto her feet and stumbled back out onto the deck.

She looked wildly for Sebastian, but he had taken his man and they had gone back to their ship. The _Dalton _had turned around and was starting to sail away. Santana tried to get a glimpse of Quinn, but the spot at which she'd fallen was surrounded by people. "We have to get her to a doctor," Mike was saying. "We need to go to port."

"I'll get the wheel," Blaine said. "It shouldn't take more than a few minutes to get there." He sounded stricken. As he moved away from Quinn, Santana caught a glimpse of a pale arm splattered with blood. She stumbled over to the railing and vomited over the side.

"Santana!" Puck called from behind her. "What the hell are you doing?" She heaved again and he was behind her in a second, placing a firm hand on her back. "I told you to lie down."

"Can't," Santana replied in a hoarse voice. She wiped her mouth off but continued to stare down at the sea, still feeling sick. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know," Puck said. "Dammit, I don't know. She's unconscious and—and Rachel can't stop crying…" Puck's voice broke. "We're going to do whatever it takes to save her."

"Is she…" Santana pulled herself up and tried to look back towards Quinn. "Is she bleeding?"

"Santana, don't look," Puck began, but it was too late. Mike had bent down, exposing Quinn to Santana's eyes. He ripped off Quinn's shirt to reveal torn up flesh, and Santana threw up again, narrowly missing Puck's shoes. "Jesus, not on the deck, please!"

"Sorry," Santana croaked. "Oh God, Quinn…"

"We're helping her," Puck said firmly. "There's nothing you can do here. You're hurt, you need to get inside. You're just making things harder for us."

Santana stared blearily at the _Dalton_, and at Jesse's ship, which was following close behind. The two ships were facing away from the _McKinley _but they were still close enough for Santana to clearly see the men on board. "Captain Sebastian!" Jesse was screaming. "I demand that you come back here at once!"

"This is insane," Puck said. "Seriously, insane."

"We need to go after those bastards!" Artie called out. Santana turned to look at him, and saw that his eyes were puffy. He was practically shaking with fury.

"I agree," Santana said. She cleared her throat. "We should go…"

"We need to help Quinn," Puck replied. "And you and Sam. Blaine is steering us around to the dock right now."

"What happened to Sam?" she asked.

"He hurt his leg," Puck said, "he'll be alright. But we need to get him to land."

From behind Mike, Mercedes, and Tina, who were all surrounding Quinn's immobile body, Rachel appeared. She ran towards Santana, tears streaming down her face. "Santana," she sobbed. "You have to save her. Please. You _have _to."

Santana's chest tightened. "I will," she said. "I—I will…I'm trying…" She reached out and clutched at the railing. "Oh God, my head won't stop spinning."

"Rachel." Finn stepped forward from out of the corner of Santana's eye and tried to wrap his arms around Rachel. "It's going to be okay."

"It's _not_!" Rachel shoved Finn away roughly. "It's not going to be okay until I know _she's _going to be okay!" She covered her face with her hands and wailed. Finn backed away nervously.

"I'm gonna see if I can help," Puck said. He placed a hand on Santana's arm. "For the love of God, stay put."

Santana was starting to feel sick again and she wasn't sure if she was even capable of disobeying Puck anymore. She turned around and leaned over the railing, staring out at the ships. The _Dalton _was making a fair amount of headway, and it was starting to look like they were going to slip right by the _Vocal Adrenaline_. Jesse seemed to realize the same thing, and Santana heard him shout, "They're getting away! Ready the cannons—they're getting away!"

"Hey St. James!" Sebastian called back, and despite the distance Santana could hear his booming voice loud and clear. "You might want to do background checks a little more carefully in the future!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jesse shouted back, and Santana could just make out the furious scowl on his face as he stood on the quarter deck and stared out at Jesse.

"It means that you're little treasure isn't so safe anymore, now that you're right hand man sang like a canary! We know where the Elixir is! So, tell him thanks for us!" Santana could see Sebastian laughing as he walked over towards the helm of his ship. He looked back towards Jesse one more time. "His name is Cooper Anderson!"

Then Sebastian gave the wheel a great spin, and the _Dalton _headed out into the open sea.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27: The Deal**

Puck was finally able to wrestle Santana into her bed so that he could wrap a bandage around the wound on her hip. She felt some of her strength return to her as Artie gave her some water and Puck cleaned the blood off her skin. "Who is with Quinn?" she asked quietly.

"Mike and Mercedes are applying pressure to her stomach," Puck said, "to try and stop the bleeding. They bandaged her up pretty tight and I think she should be okay until we get her to a doctor."

Santana swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay," she said. Then she lowered her voice so that Artie, who was watching her from the corner of the room, could not hear. "I can't lose her, Puck. It would be too much for me."

"I know," Puck whispered back. "I know. It would kill me, too."

Santana closed her eyes and nodded. "I just wish there was something I could do. And where is Sam?"

"Sam is downstairs in the bunks," he said. "Finn is with him. He might need stiches but he says he's feeling okay."

"Good."

"Hey San?" Santana cracked her eyes open and looked at Puck's concerned face. "Are you okay with…you know…what happened in Jesse's office? Right before all this mess?"

Santana breathed in sharply. "You mean with Brittany?" she asked quietly. Puck nodded. "I don't know." Santana struggled to remain emotionless. "I don't know where she went."

"I'm sure she just got separated from us in the struggle," Puck said. "She'll come back."

"And what if she doesn't?" Santana practically whispered.

Puck placed a hand on her forehead. "It's okay," he said quickly. "We'll talk about it later."

"Puck," she said. "I want to find her."

"We'll talk about it later," he said again. "Let's just get into port and get some help for Quinn. You can relax until we get there."

Santana didn't want to relax, but she actually started to doze off as the boat continued to rock gently in the waves. Puck sat quietly at the foot of her bed, but when she opened her eyes a little later, he was gone. She wanted to get up and see where he had gone, but her head was spinning and the cut on her stomach was throbbing. _Brittany_, she thought. _I wish Brittany was here_.

Santana wondered if there was any point in going to find her. If Puck was right, and she had simply been separated from them after Sebastian's appearance, then maybe there was a chance that she was willing to come back to the _McKinley_. But if Puck was wrong… Santana didn't even want to contemplate the alternative. She felt dirty and evil every time she thought about what Jesse had told her. She felt completely unworthy of Brittany's trust. And she had no idea how to get it back.

Her misery was too great for her to keep lying in bed, and she forced herself up, finding her coat hanging on the bedpost. She slipped it on and went outside, noticing that they were docked on the pier of Port Carmel. The deck was nearly empty, except for Tina in the crow's nest and Artie sitting on the deck. Santana walked over to him.

"Where is everyone?" she asked.

"Doctor," Artie said. "Blaine and Puck were helping Sam, and Finn, Mike, and Mercedes carried Quinn. They've been gone for maybe fifteen minutes."

"How was Quinn when they left?"

"The same," Artie said. "Still unconscious. Sam was okay, he'll need stiches though. They wanted to take you, too, but Puck said not to bother you. You were sleeping."

"Kind of," Santana said. She shoved her hands in her pockets and sighed. "Is that the _Vocal Adrenaline_?" She pointed to another dock not far from them.

"Yeah," Artie said. "We saw them pull in, but they haven't come over here to bother us yet. They have a lot of stuff to deal with. I'm hoping they leave us alone."

Santana nodded. "We can't really deal with anything else right now."

"There's Blaine."

Santana turned around and saw Blaine walking quickly down the dock towards the ship. Her heart fluttered. "Do you think he has bad news?" she asked.

"I—I hope not," Artie said. "I think he's probably just coming to check on you." Even though his words were reassuring, he still looked nervous, and Santana held her breath until Blaine was close enough that she could call out to him.

"Is everything okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Everything is going fine. I just came to see if you were awake, so that I could take you to see her."

Santana breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay," she said. "I'm coming."

She walked down the gangplank and hopped onto the pier beside Blaine. "They're in the process of stitching Quinn," he said immediately. "They already did Sam, he's fine. Quinn still isn't awake but that's probably better. They wouldn't have been able to give her enough anesthetic to numb the pain of the stitches."

"Good," Santana said as they began to walk down the dock. "Did you have to carry her far?"

Blaine shook his head. "No, we found the doctor pretty quickly, it's just right around the corner from the port," he said. "There were two of them. They didn't ask too many questions, though it's pretty obvious we're not from around here. But we showed them we were good for the money and they've been working hard ever since."

"I'm really nervous, Blaine," Santana admitted.

"It's okay," Blaine assured her. "She's strong. She'll pull through."

"Hey!" A loud shout came through the air behind them as they turned onto the main road. Santana recognized the voice immediately as Jesse's and she grabbed Blaine's arm, urging him forward.

"Who is that?" Blaine asked, trying to turn around.

"Don't look," Santana said. "Just keep going."

"Hey!" Jesse called out again. "Santana, I'm talking to you!"

"Santana…" Blaine began. Then he stopped walking and turned around. "Come on," he muttered. "We're not really in a position to piss people off."

"Fine," Santana snapped. She turned to see Jesse hurrying down the dock towards them. His coat was unbuttoned and his hair was askew, and he looked far more flustered than he had in his office. When he was close enough to talk to them, he slowed to a stop and took a moment to catch his breath.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked finally.

"We've had injuries," Santana said flatly. "And it would be really nice if you could give us just one night to work things out, and then we'll be out of here. Remember, we _did _tell you about the _Dalton_."

Jesse held up his hand to stop her. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not here to take you in. I need you to do something for me."

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What?"

"You need to save the Elixir of Life."

There was a moment of silence as Santana allowed the words to sink in. "What?" she asked finally. "What are you talking about?"

"You were right," Jesse explained. "The _Dalton _is going after the Elixir and we can't do anything to stop them. We're not fast enough and we're not trained for this kind of thing. You're pirates, surely you can seek treasure faster than they can."

"We're a little busy," Santana said coldly. "And, if I recall correctly, you weren't exactly welcoming to us when we first got here. So excuse me if I don't feel like doing you any favors."

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" he said. "This isn't exactly a favor. It's a matter of life and death."

"For you, maybe," Santana said. "Not really for me."

"If Sebastian gets the Elixir of Life, you're the first person he's going to go after!" Jesse protested.

Santana felt her heart sink. Jesse was probably right, though she refused to acknowledge it. "So what? We can take care of ourselves. Come on Blaine, let's go."

Jesse looked flabbergasted. "Well then—I'll have you thrown in jail!"

Santana shook her head. "You won't bring us in without a fight."

"Your crew is injured." Jesse's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'd like to see you try to fight me."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Bye asshole," she said, starting to turn around.

"Alright, wait," Jesse said. "I'm sorry, I won't do that. I want you on my side, so I promise not to hurt you. But…I _will _help you, if you do this for me."

"What kind of help could I possibly want from you?" Santana asked.

"I'll give you guys immunity," he said. "I'll turn a blind eye to all your crimes for the rest of your life, and I'll send word to our neighboring ports to do the same. As long as you leave us alone," he added, "and contain your raids to smaller ports and villages. I'm basically giving you a free pass to be a pirate."

Santana turned back and looked Jesse squarely in the eye. "You're serious?" she asked.

"Of course," Jesse said. He looked at her earnestly. "The _McKinley_ will have free reign of the seas."

Santana chewed on her lip. "We'll have to think about it," she said.

Jesse nodded. "Of course," he said. "But please, try to decide before nightfall. The _Dalton _is gaining headway as we speak."

"You would really do this?" Blaine asked. "You would really break the royal laws for us?"

Jesse looked at Blaine curiously as though noticing him for the first time. "I'm sorry, you are…?"

"Blaine Anderson," he said quickly. "First mate of the _McKinley_."

"Anderson?" Jesse looked at Blaine closely, and Santana suddenly felt a flicker of recognition. But then it was gone. Jesse continued, "Yes, I would do that for you. Because I'd much rather have a pirate ship roaming the seas than a crew of immortal navy men hell-bent on destroying us. Seriously, the damage they could do…" He trailed off. "I have to go. Just, think about it for me, okay?"

"We will," Santana promised. Jesse nodded at them and then turned around, heading back down the dock for his ship. Santana looked at Blaine. "That was…"

"He's right," Blaine interrupted. "I was on the _Dalton_, I caught pieces of their conversation. They're not going to use the Elixir for innocent purposes, in case you didn't know."

"I figured as much," Santana said. "Still…we have other things to do. And this isn't really our problem."

"It isn't right now," Blaine said. "But it could become our problem, later. And we might regret not doing anything about it while we had the chance."

"Perhaps."

"Besides, diplomatic immunity is a huge deal," Blaine said. "We should really talk to the rest of the crew about it, at least."

"I know," Santana said. "Right now, though, I just want to think about Quinn. The rest can wait."

Blaine led the way down the street. As they neared the doctor's office, Mike came out and approached them.

"How is she?" Santana asked immediately.

"She's…not good," Mike said. He swallowed hard and looked uncharacteristically emotional.  
"They stitched her up but she lost a lot of blood and uh…" He took a moment to compose himself. "We just don't know."

Santana felt like she had been punched in the gut. "What are you saying?" she said slowly. "Are you saying she's…"

"She's still unconscious," Mike said. "But the doctor said that even if she does wake up, she'll be really weak because—"

"Hold on," Santana said, her voice sounding shrill. "_If _she wakes up?"

"They're not sure what's going to happen to her," Mike said. "She was injured really badly."

"Well, there has to be something they can do," Blaine said. "Can't they give her more blood, or…I don't know, there must be medicine or something!"

Mike shrugged sadly. "I don't think there's anything they can do. Once a patient has lost this much blood…"

"Okay, hold on," Santana said. "Are you saying she's…she's going to…you know…" Santana couldn't bring herself to say out loud what might happen to Quinn. She refused to believe that this was happening.

"At this point, we can't say for sure," Mike said. "But really, all we can do is wait it out."

"Maybe we should take her to a different doctor," Blaine said. "To another town maybe. How do we know these people know what they're talking about?"

"My parents, were doctors," Mike said. "I know a few things. What they said to us seems to be the truth. There really isn't much we can do."

"No," Santana said. "There _has _to be. We'll do whatever it takes. Mike, we can't…" she took a deep steadying breath, "…lose her."

"I know," Mike said. Santana felt Blaine reach over and rub her back softly. "I know," Mike continued. "I want to save her as much as you do, Santana. Believe me."

"Then we can't give up," Santana said, blinking back tears. "We'll try to move her, we'll take her somewhere else."

"I guess that means Jesse's offer is off the table," Blaine said. "We can let him know we're not interested, and then we can make a plan for where to go next."

Santana nodded. "I guess so."

"Sorry, what is Jesse's offer?" Mike asked, looking at the two of them.

Santana opened her mouth to explain, but suddenly Blaine said, "Wait." His hand dropped from Santana's back and he looked at her with wide eyes. "You said we should do whatever it takes to save Quinn, right?"

"Of course," Santana replied.

"Well then…why don't we try to use the Elixir of Life?"


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: I'm back!**

* * *

**Chapter 28: The Bargain**

For the second time that day, Santana found herself walking up to the governor's palace, this time accompanied by Blaine and Mike. She was exhausted, but she forced herself not to think of the pain in her stomach as they went as fast as they could to Jesse's house. They had briefly gone to visit Quinn, and Santana had nearly fainted at the sight of her. Her eyes were shut and her chest was barely moving; her face had been pale and there was blood all over her clothes. She'd spent less than a minute looking at her best friend before announcing that they had to go see Jesse—Quinn simply would not last without the Elixir.

"I'm confused," Mike said, somewhat breathlessly. "Isn't this the guy you went to see earlier about the Elixir? Wasn't he kind of an asshole?"

"I guess he changed his mind when he found out we were serious," Santana replied. "He's still an asshole, though. But we can't afford to be picky."

"Are we sure we can trust him, though?" Blaine asked. "I mean…to send us to the right place?"

Santana shrugged. "Like I said, he's the only chance we've got."

The gates were open and unguarded when they reached them. Jesse had obviously decided there were more important things at the moment than protecting the fort. Santana, Mike, and Blaine were able to walk right in and go up the driveway to the front door. This time, Santana didn't take a moment to admire the beautiful house. She pushed her way through the large doors and went straight to Jesse's office, hoping that he would be there.

He wasn't. She turned to Mike and Blaine. "What should we do?" she asked. "I have no idea where else he might be."

"Maybe we should split up and look for him," Blaine suggested.

"This place looks huge," Mike pointed out.

_If only Brittany were here_, Santana thought suddenly. As soon as she thought it, she had the urge to run from the palace and run through the entire port looking for her girlfriend. It seemed more important than Jesse or some stupid Elixir, and the only thing that kept her from leaving the room was the memory of Quinn's broken body.

"Let's do it," Santana said. "Let's split up."

Thankfully, Jesse chose that moment to enter his office. He looked at his visitors in shock, but then his face relaxed into a relieved smile. "You're here," he said. "Does this mean you'll do it?"

Santana took a deep breath and glanced at her friends. "Yes," she said. "We'll do it. We'll bring you the Elixir."

"Perfect," Jesse said. He hurried to his desk and sat down behind it. "Now, it's important that we don't waste time. I'm going to give you a map…" He began opening and closing drawers, clearly looking for something. "This cannot be shared with _anyone_, understand? Once you're back here with the Elixir, I'll honor our end of the deal. But you can't tell anyone about any of this. Okay?"

"Sure," Santana said.

Jesse paused and looked up at her seriously. "I need you to promise."

"We promise," Santana replied.

"Okay." Jesse pulled out a map and unrolled it on the table. Then he picked up a pencil and drew a circle. "We are here," he said, "and the Elixir is hidden right over here." He drew another circle and connected the two with a line.

Santana leaned over the map and gasped. "T-the Islas Peligrosas? _That's _where the Elixir is hidden?"

"Yeah," Jesse said. "Why, you've heard of them?"

"I…yes," Santana said, her chest tightening. "I have."

"They're not far from here, you'll probably get there in a couple of days. When you do…" He pulled out another map, this time a close up of the islands, "it's important that you follow this route exactly. The Islas Peligrosas are very dangerous if you don't know where you're going."

He started to draw a route around all of the tiny islands, as Santana watched him with a growing feeling of dread. Go back to the place where her parents died? How was she supposed to handle that?

"You'll have an advantage," Jesse said. "The _Dalton _is going to have a lot of trouble navigating, and I'm sure that nobody else knows this route through the islands except for me. With your speed, I don't think it will be too difficult for you get there first."

"And what are we expected to do," Blaine asked, "once we get it?"

"Just bring the chest back to me," Jesse said.

"And what about your end of the deal?"

"I'll tell everyone to leave you alone," Jesse promised, "the moment you bring it back to me." He looked at Santana. "So we have a deal?"

Santana clenched her jaw and nodded. "Yeah," she said. "We do."

"Good," Jesse said with relief. He rolled up the maps and held them out. Mike took them. "Good luck," he said, "and be quick."

Blaine and Mike looked at Santana and she jerked her head towards the door. They were about to leave when it opened, and two guards stepped inside. One of them was Rory, and the other was older and unfamiliar. "Sir," the older one said. "Cooper Anderson has been taken to his cell. We've set the execution for tomorrow at dawn."

"Excellent," Jesse said. He shook his head. "You can't trust anyone these days…"

"Hold on," Blaine said suddenly. "Did you say Cooper Anderson?"

"I did," Jesse said. He looked up at Blaine curiously. "Why? Any relation?"

"I…no," Blaine said. He caught Santana's eye for a moment, but it was long enough for her to see that something was seriously wrong. "No, there isn't," he continued. "Common name, I suppose."

"Okay, good," Jesse said. "That traitor is the reason why we have an issue with the _Dalton _in the first place. We're getting rid of him as soon as possible."

"You ought to keep better track of your men," Santana couldn't help but say. "You do realize you've put us all in danger."

Jesse looked at her. She could tell that he was forcing himself not to make a snappy retort, and it was immensely satisfying to her. "Yes, well," he said. "We will definitely take more precautions in the future. Now, if you'll excuse me…we both have work to do."

"Right," Santana said. She looked at Mike and Blaine. "Come on, let's go."

"I hope to see you soon," Jesse said as they left.

Once they were out in the foyer, Santana turned to Blaine. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.

Blaine led the way to the door. "I…I just never thought I would hear the name Cooper Anderson again."

"Why?" Santana asked. "Who is he? You are related to him, aren't you?"

Blaine nodded. "I am." He held the door open and looked at Santana seriously. "He's my brother."

Santana's eyes widened. "But then…why didn't you tell that to St. James? We can negotiate his release!"

"Somehow I don't think that's going to happen," Blaine said.

"Why not? We have so much leverage over Jesse! He _needs _us."

"That's what you think," Blaine said. "But I'm not so sure. I just met this Jesse guy and I already don't trust him."

"Besides," Mike added, "we're totally planning to double cross him. Aren't we?"

"Exactly," Blaine said. "We have to assume everyone is about as honest as we are, and we're pirates."

"I don't understand," Santana said. "You don't want Jesse to know Cooper is your brother, so you're just going to let him die?"

Blaine shook his head. "I'm not going to let him die. I'm going to save him."

"But we have to save Quinn!" Santana protested. "We can't have any distractions right now!"

"But Santana, this may be the only way to save Quinn!" Blaine protested. "We can go get the Elixir, maybe we can even steal the key, but that's not the only thing protecting it! It's not going to just be sitting there in the chest like a bottle of rum. There are other obstacles, I'm sure of it."

Santana wanted to protest, but she remembered what Jesse had told them earlier. There were other things protecting the Elixir of Life. Jesse wouldn't have trusted them to bring it back if he wasn't absolutely sure they wouldn't be able to open it. "So what are you saying?" Santana said. "I thought you were the one who suggested using the Elixir on Quinn."

"We absolutely should," Blaine said. "But we need more information first. We need Cooper."

"We don't even know where he's being kept," Santana said. "How are we supposed to find him?"

Blaine faltered. "Maybe…we can ask someone or something."

"Ask them how to get into the jail? I don't think that'll work," Santana said. "I'm sorry, but I don't think this will work. Getting someone from the _Dalton _to tell us what they know is probably more realistic…"

"That's not going to work," Blaine protested, "and it doesn't help Cooper. Santana, he's my brother!"

"I've never once heard you mention a brother!" Santana replied.

"I haven't seen him in years, but…he's family."

"And what about Quinn?" she demanded.

"Of course I haven't forgotten about Quinn!" Blaine said. "And we can save them both, if we just—"

"Santana," Mike interrupted. "Why don't you just ask Brittany?"

Santana turned away from Blaine. "Ask…Brittany?"

"Yeah," Mike said. "You know, ask her to take us to Cooper. She must know where they keep the prisoners."

"Yeah," Blaine said, sounding relieved. "That's a great idea. Get Brittany to take us there, we can save Cooper and then be on our way."

"No," Santana said. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" Blaine demanded.

Santana took a deep, shaky breath. "Because she left."

* * *

They spent what was left of the daylight getting ready for their journey. Puck and Finn had to carry an unconscious Quinn back to the boat, which went more smoothly than her trip _to _the doctor, mostly because she was no longer bleeding. She remained unresponsive, however, and Rachel would not stop weeping at the sight of her. Santana was torn between wanting to hug Rachel and wanting to throw her overboard. But she knew that Quinn would want her to show compassion, so she settled for patting Rachel's back awkwardly and excusing herself to her cabin. She was exhausted from the day's proceedings and yet she couldn't bring herself to sleep. _We're going to the Islas Peligrosas_, she kept thinking to herself. _We're going to the one place I never wanted to see again…and Brittany isn't coming with us._

She'd managed to avoid giving Mike and Blaine any details on Brittany's departure, though she was sure the crew were talking about it. They seemed to sense her need for space, however, and she hoped that they continued to leave her alone because she wasn't quite sure how to explain things to them. What was she supposed to say? That her father was a murderer? Technically, they should all understand—they had killed people before, it was what pirates did. But there was something different about what her father had done, shooting the governor in cold blood, and Santana couldn't excuse him no matter how hard she tried. If the governor had lived, would he have saved Brittany from Tanaka and his family? Would Brittany be in the palace right now, happily married to Jesse St. James, with no memories of pain and abuse to haunt her? Santana couldn't shake the feeling that her father had destroyed Brittany's future, however indirectly.

_She'll never forgive me_, she thought. _I wouldn't forgive me, either._

Her door opened and Blaine came inside, looking spent. "I couldn't find him," he said. "I've tried everywhere, he's obviously locked up somewhere inside the palace itself. No one could tell me where to go."

"Blaine," Santana said. "I'm so sorry."

Blaine sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I really shouldn't be unloading all of this on you," he said. "I know you've been through a lot and this is a hard time for you but, well…you're the only one who understands. You know?"

"Yeah," Santana said wryly. "I know."

Blaine looked up at her. "You look as bad as I feel," he said. "I should go. I'll talk to you some other time."

"No," Santana said quickly. She could sense the pain that Blaine was feeling and frankly, she wanted company. "No, stay. Tell me about him."

Blaine ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "There isn't that much to tell, I guess. We weren't that close growing up. He's eight years older than me. He was always kind of a bully. My parents loved him though." He smiled ruefully. "He was going to make them proud someday."

"Is that why you became a pirate?" Santana asked. "As, like, a rebellion against your family?"

"Yes and no," Blaine said. "I did become a pirate, but that wasn't until later. After Cooper had already…been disowned, I guess."

Santana looked at him interestedly. "What did he do?"

"He got a girl pregnant," Blaine said simply. "Which was, like, a huge no-no. See, my dad was a commodore and he wanted us to follow in his footsteps. But nobody in the town wanted Cooper in the public eye after that scandal."

"Well if it was such a big deal, why didn't he just marry the girl?" Santana asked.

"Because she was our maid," Blaine said. "Yeah…it was kind of an awkward situation. So my parents sent him away, to go to boarding school. And he never came back."

"How old were you when this happened?" Santana asked.

"I was eight," Blaine said. "And he was sixteen. That was the last time I ever saw him. I can't believe he's here now, working for the governor and cutting deals with corrupt Navy men…" He shook his head. "I know this sounds crazy. But he's my brother, I can't deal with the thought of him being, like…executed…"

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and Santana reached for his hand. "Blaine, I wish there was something we could do," she said. "But…"

"But the crew comes first," Blaine said. "I know. It's part of the code."

There was a soft knock on the door and Santana looked at Blaine curiously. Nobody in the crew knocked before coming inside. She hesitantly said, "Come in," and it opened slowly. A nervous Rory stepped inside and Blaine jumped up immediately.

"What are you doing?" he asked warily.

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," Rory said quickly, looking between Santana and Blaine with wide eyes. "Mr. Puck said I could come aboard and speak with you. There's someone who needs to see you before you leave tonight."

Santana furrowed her brow. "Jesse told us to leave without any delays…"

"He changed his mind," Rory replied. "He said it wouldn't take long, but that you need to come now. And I can't give you any more information."

"Now wait just a minute," Blaine said. "She's not going anywhere with you, how do we know we can trust you?"

"Are you…Blaine Anderson?" Rory asked uncertainly.

"Sure am."

"Then you have to come, too," he said. "My orders were to bring Captain Lopez, Blaine Anderson, and Tina Cohen-Chang."

Santana and Blaine exchanged curious looks. Something felt off about this. "Jesse already told us everything we need to know," she said. "Why would he want to see us again?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know," Rory said. He looked around anxiously. "I…I was told to bring you as quickly as possible."

Santana thought quickly and then made her decision. "Alright," she said. "We'll go. But we're going to be armed, if you don't mind. And if there's any signs that you're leading us into a trap, I won't hesitate to use my pistol on you."

Rory gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

"Okay then," Santana said. "Let's go find Tina."


End file.
